Spark to Flame
by Nikkette
Summary: She exhales hotly, nostrils flaring like an ox. "Bite me, Odair." His eyes almost sparkle then, glinting with unsettling mirth as he leers closer. "Believe me, Fire Girl - I'd love to." In which a late-night training session turns into something more for Hunger Games victors Katniss Everdeen and Finnick Odair. Starts during Catching Fire and goes through Mockingjay. Finniss.
1. Pt I: Clear to Smoke

**A/N: A Guest reviewed my PepperxThor fanfiction (10 Signs She's In Love With You) asking when I was going to post another Finniss fanfiction. This is my answer. I hope you enjoy it! It's my first time writing in the present tense! :)  
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**Reading Time: 5 mins.  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

****EDIT**05/31/2015 I've decided to split this story into 3 parts, so there have been some changes made to the chapters/chapter titles.**

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**Pt I.**

* * *

Chapter one: Clear to Smoke~

* * *

It's dark.

The training room is lifeless and empty, with nothing to aid her eyesight except the dimly lit overhead lights descending down the length of the room in a pale, never-ending row, and the deafening silence leaves a barely audible ringing in her ears. It's strange – almost creepy – how different the place looks at night, when no one else is there. The space that she and Peeta and the others occupied just hours before is now hollow, without any form of energy or life, and goosebumps form on her arms as the chill it holds finally wafts over her bare arms and collarbone.

Katniss exhales, an action that would have been silent if the room wasn't so empty, and steps forward, intent on doing what she came here to do.

She walks, the muscles in her calves loosening and contracting with each step, as she glances over at the different stations.

Archery, melee, trapping...

Finally she sees it – the rope station.

Gradually, she changes direction and shifts towards her destination of choice, not really knowing why she's chosen it other than she hasn't tried it yet, and as she draws nearer she almost doesn't expect it to power on - after all, why _would_ any of the simulations work after training hours? - but nevertheless it does; she steps onto the pressure-sensitive tile and the screen comes on, its bright blue light making her eyes ache in the surrounding darkness, and everything in her peripherals quickly fades to complete blackness.

She exhales again and starts the simulation, choosing at random what she's going to learn.

The program chooses the lesson based on her selection, and suddenly she's berated with moving images of transparent rope knotting itself together all too quickly, and she realizes that she has no knowledge of rope or knots and that she probably should have chosen something of an easier difficulty, but still she tries. After all, she has nothing better to do; the nightmares have gotten worse, and she doesn't want to give Peeta another sleepless night.

She grabs the practice rope hanging off of the metal hook in front of her, failing several times over to recreate the knot the screen is showing her, but is not discouraged or deterred. She _will_ get this knot, even if it takes her all night.

* * *

An immeasurable amount of time later, and she still can't get it right.

The rope just won't look how she wants it to look, no matter how many twists and turns and loops she does, and she becomes frustrated that the Capitol wouldn't have made a slower video tutorial for those with little to no experience with rope-tying or knots. Though she regrets her decision to choose such a complicated knot at random, she's not in the least bit discouraged. Angered, yes, but even though a considerable amount of time has passed she can't find it in herself to just give up.

"Light sleeper?"

She whips her head to her left, her sore neck cracking a little with the sudden movement, concentration broken as her eyes fall on the ever-flawless form of Finnick Odair.

She doesn't know what he's doing up at this hour, but she doesn't particularly care either. She's not really in the mood to talk, as Finnick is so _famously_ known to do (when he's not 'entertaining' guests, that is), but she is quick to come to terms with the fact that she will no longer be able to ride out the night in quiet solace as she wracks her brain and whips up a reply.

"...No. But I am now."

He walks closer then, as if her answer somehow doubled as an invitation to indulge in small talk and invade her personal space, and it suddenly feels like the station she's situated at _isn't_ thirty meters away. She turns her head and focuses her attention back on the rope.

"Nightmares?" He asks, once he's within whispering distance.

She freezes, her hands locking up and her spine going rigid, but doesn't reply. Unfortunately, with one as intuitive as Finnick Odair, he takes that as a reply in and of itself.

"Yeah. Me too. We all get 'em. Don't worry about it."

She doesn't know which is more strange to her: the thought of Finnick Odair having nightmares or the way he plays it off so nonchalantly, as though it's perfectly normal and the whole world deals with it. She decides on the former. She makes no move to say anything more and gives him no indication that she'll do so, but apparently he's not done talking. And as she ties and unties the rope in her overworked hands, she wonders if it's just a part of who he is, and something that can never be changed.

"So what are you doing?"

Irritation flares up inside of her at such a stupid question; _what does it _look_ like she's doing? _But she bites it down and - by the goodness of her heart - graces him with an answer. "Tying knots."

"_Knots?_" He echoes, and already she regrets opening her mouth. "Since when have _you_ been fascinated with rope?"

"Since just now," she says, the irritation in her voice clearly showing through as she hastens her movements with yet another unsuccessful knot.

It's silent for a few moments, and for a second she thinks that maybe he'll keep his mouth shut and let her work on figuring out how to accomplish her task, but just as she suspects, it's wishful thinking.

"What kind of knot are you trying to do?"

She snaps then, smacking the rope down against the bar it's fastened to and exhaling sharply, glaring at him despite the fact that she can't properly see him in the darkness due to staring at the blue screen for so long.

"What does it _look_ like, Odair?"

He visibly perks up then, as though he's been waiting for this outburst, and he all-too-happily answers as he says, "Well the _screen_ looks like a double constrictor knot. But _that_," he points to the limp rope in her hands. "Looks like a toddler trying to tie their shoe."

She scoffs. "Really? Well how would _you_ do it, then, _o__h, Great Odair?_"

He bows his head and steps forward, not bothering to hide his mirth-filled smirk as he embraces her dripping sarcasm like a warm hug. "Like this."

Without asking, he takes the rope in her hands and gently extracts it, the stray fibers poking at her fingers and palms as it slides from her grip, and she watches on in anger and resentment as he effortlessly ties the knot she's been attempting for the past fifteen minutes in mere seconds.

And he's not even looking at the screen as he does it; she watches his skilled hands and easy movements, like flowing water, and suddenly she realizes – he's done this before. Many times, by the looks of it. He's too comfortable and too happy to show her up on something she'd had no idea he was so skilled at, until now.

He finishes, using the extra length to add a little bow atop his double constrictor knot (or whatever it's called) and presents it to her as one would a bouquet.

"There. See?"

The act is chivalrous, and yet all it does is anger her further.

She exhales hotly, nostrils flaring like an ox. _"Bite_ me, Odair."

His eyes almost sparkle then, glinting with unsettling mirth as he leers closer. "Believe me, Fire Girl - _I'd love to_."

She instinctively leans away, the upper half of her body angling at a humorous position, but snaps her spine back a moment later to snatch the rope back from him.

"What _is_ it with you?" She asks, furrowing her brows and eyeing him up and down suspiciously.

His smirk only grows wider. "What do you mean?"

"You _know_ what I mean," she snaps, the emphasized word just loud enough to echo out into the room. The innocent look he gives her only manages to anger her further, and though her words are low, they have the effect of a whip. "What is it with you? Why are you so..._flirty?" _She says the word as though it's a worm trying to wriggle its way out of her mouth, and her face contorts in such a way that he can't seem to help chuckling.

"Why, Fire Girl? Does it make you..." He steps forward and leans in close, drawing out his reply as his face slides past hers and hovers by her ear, and it's so quiet that she can hear the steady breath he's drawing in through his mouth. "..._Uncomfortable?_"

She jerks back and swats him away, absolutely infuriated with his shameless behavior. "Ugh, you're _disgusting!_"

He tilts his head and shrugs, momentarily drawing the corners of his mouth down in thought. "Well I can't say I've heard _that_ one before. You know, most ladies in your position would have _died_ by now."

She doesn't hold back her scoff. "From_ repulsion?_"

He smirks again, irking her even further by lifting his eyebrows suggestively. "No; from quite the opposite."

She wants to throw another smart comeback at him but nothing comes to her. She's angry and annoyed, and she realizes that as long as he's here, she's not going to accomplish what she came here to do. She'll never achieve a sense of calm as long as he's around, and she knows that if she doesn't quit now she'll only leave with her anger heightened to a point that prevents her from ever getting back to sleep.

She quietly scoffs to herself, shaking her head as she moves to brush past him. "Whatever..."

She's pretty sure of herself as she leaves him in her dust, and she's halfway across the room to the exit before she knows it, but when he doesn't say anything or call after her with some smart remark or perverted comment, she changes her mind. Because then she realizes: he _wanted_ this. He was _trying_ to irritate her so he could be alone, so he could have the entire training room to himself.

And then she's _really_ mad.

She stops dead in her tracks, turns sharply, and marches right back up to him, projecting her anger at his stupid, uncaring back as he's too much of an _ass_ to stare after her like any _decent_ person would, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around to face her.

"Woah, what's the big idea, Fire Girl?"

She ignores him, intent on getting to the bottom of what's irking her. "Just what _is_ your problem, exactly?"

His brows furrow and he smiles, like he somehow _doesn't_ know what she's talking about. "Problem?"

"Don't play _dumb_ with me," She snaps. "You're always _saying_ or _doing_ something to make me uncomfortable. And I wanna know why."

He laughs then, clearly amused, and his eyebrows momentarily shoot upwards as he shakes his head and says, "Okay, Fire Girl, I think _maybe_ someone's a little full of themselves. In case you haven't noticed, I'm like that with everyone; it's who I am."

He holds out his arms, gesturing to himself like he's some kind of god before turning away from her and back towards the roping station, but she's quick to step in front of him and block his path. She's not about to let him get away so easily – _without_ an answer – just yet.

"But me especially. I've noticed. Out of everyone here it's always _me_ you single out. Why?"

She's been as crystal clear with him as she can possibly be – practically_ spelled it out_ for him – and yet somehow, some way (which she's sure is exclusive to Finnick and Finnick alone), he finds a way to dodge it.

"Uh...I'm _flattered,_ I truly am, but do you really think this is wise? I mean I know I'm good-looking, but Peeta-"

She throws her arms up and turns away. "Urgh! How can you _be_ like this?"

She can't see him with her back turned, but just the sound of his lion-purr voice is enough to make her insides clench and twist with livid fury.

"The question you _should_ be asking yourself, Fire Girl, is why have you noticed?"

She whirls around to face him, ready to unleash her mounting anger and frustration, but is momentarily thwarted when she realizes just how _close_ he suddenly is. Her face is mere inches away from his neck, and she has to angle her head up to look at him properly. It's enough to unnerve her, but not _nearly_ enough to stop her.

"_Excuse me?_" She asks, though it's not really a question.

He smirks, more than happy to elaborate. "Well, it's just that if you think I'm so 'out to get you', then why have you taken such an interest in what I'm doing to begin with? Shouldn't you not give a damn whether I'm in the same room or not? Have you been watching me from the beginning? That seems outright stalker-ish to me."

She can't deny that he has a point, but she also knows full well what he's trying to do – he's twisting her words around, trying to make her doubt herself. And she won't let that happen.

"Don't turn this around on _me,_ Odair." She moves past him, standing next to the hanging rope she'd been trying to work just minutes before a few feet away from him, not ready in the _least_ to admit that it's so she can _breathe_ again. "_I'm_ not the one who's always trying to talk when you don't want to talk and say things you don't want to hear and touch you when you don't want to be touched."

"You sure about that?" He asks, and for the first time in all their conversations together, she doesn't know what to say.

"...What?"

"Are you sure about that?" He repeats, launching off the heels of his feet and circling closer. "Because if I didn't know any better, I'd think that you _wanted_ to be touched and talked to. I mean after all, you sure as hell don't get that with _Peeta."_

Her face reddens, both with anger and embarrassment, and she's all too quick to rebuke him. "What Peeta and I do and don't do is none of your business."

"Well sure," he says easily. "Because you _don't_ do anything. I've seen the tapes, Fire Girl. Watched the interviews, seen the recaps. You don't love him. I'd be surprised if you've even held _hands_ with him off camera."

She blinks, trying to find some angle or point to fight him with. She's rather unsuccessful. "That...that's not-"

"And you never _will_," he says, continuing as though she'd said nothing in the first place. "You might settle for him, sure. He's sweet and innocent and...well, Peeta. But you'll never _truly_ be happy with him unless you change who you are...which you can't, by the way."

He's coming closer, and she knows it. He moves carefully, as one would when approaching a lion or cobra, as though hoping to close in on her without her noticing – it doesn't work. She backs away almost immediately as soon as she notices what he's doing, but her retreat is halted by the sudden feeling of chilled metal pressing into her back, and she realizes too late that she's backed into the bar of the roping station.

He swoops in on her then, clearly seeing his chance and not about to let it go, and before she's even able to _register_ it properly he's caged her right where she stands. His arms lock beside her and his fingers wrap firmly around the cold metal bar she's backed up against, and his face is mere inches from hers. She doesn't want to share her personal space, let alone _breathe_ the same _air_ as him, but finds she has little choice; he's so close that her vision blurs, and she's unable to stop the rush of heat that floods up her neck and into her face.

He smirks. "The bottom line is, no matter _what_ you do-" He leans closer. "No matter _how_ much time you spend with him-" His breath tickles her ear. "He's _never_ going to satisfy you."

He begins to pull away, and she thinks that maybe he's done, but he leans back in a second later.

"At least," he whispers, pausing for effect, and she can just _hear_ the smirk in his voice. "Not like I can."

He sounds like a lion, all rumbles and low purrs, and she knows that it's meant to _beguile_ and _seduce_ her (and if used on any other girl it probably would), but she's too stubborn to give in to something as simple as functioning vocal cords.

It's when he licks her ear that she decides she's had enough.

Disgusted, she shoves him away, and he only laughs and gives her a wide-eyed grin, like he's pleasantly surprised at her roughness.

After a few moments he turns and walks away, apparently satisfied that he's ruffled her feathers, and he leaves her with a few select words that he knows will leave her as angry as she can possibly be before he disappears from her line of sight completely.

"You should come see me some time. When Peeta gets too boring for you I could really put that fire of yours to good use. And to answer your question, Fire Girl, the reason I've been singling you out all the time? It's because I _wanted_ to."

It takes her a while before she realizes that he's answered her initial question, and it doesn't leave her with the satisfied feeling she'd hoped it would. She leans back against the bar of the rope station to support her inexplicably weak legs, and she decides to wait a few minutes before going back to her room. She doesn't know why she does this – she tells herself it's because she doesn't want to go outside with a beet-red face, but she knows that's not entirely true – but she doesn't bother to read into it either. She waits, and after a few minutes, pushes herself off the bar and stands on her feet, raising her chin and straightening her spine.

She steps off of the pressure-sensitive tile and leaves one step at a time, not bothering to check and see if the blue computer screen shuts off as she reaches the end of the room. She peeks cautiously around the corner, more so than she would like, and is careful to head in the opposite direction of the famed Capitol Heartthrob.

She goes back to her room with no interruptions, and unwillingly dreams of bronze hair and double knots.

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**A/N: I had originally intended this to be a oneshot, but I get the feeling that it could really be something if I continued. Do you think I should continue? Let me know! :)  
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**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Pt I: Smoke to Spark

**A/N: 03/15/2015  
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**Guest: Thanks! I'm doing that now! :D**

**lalelu900: lol thank you. I will! ;)**

**OMFG: THANKS! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS NEXT INSTALLMENT! :D**

**IzzyBelle01: Wow, thank you! I've thought a lot about this story and I think I generally know what I'm going to do with it, so thanks for your encouragement! :)**

**Stephanne21: I know, I used to hate third person present tense too. But after I read a few fanfictions in that style by people who actually knew what they were _doing,_ I came to like it to the point where I wanted to try. I'm glad you think I'm able to pull it off so well, especially since it's not usually your cup of tea ;) And yep, this is gonna be packed to the _rafters_ with Capitol Finnick, so I hope you don't mind! (though really, who in their right mind doesn't like _any_ type of Finnick?) But don't worry, I plan on letting everyone see the real Finnick too :) Thanks!**

**CelestialTitania: lol I love puns XD But anyway yeah, will do! I only hope that the next few chapters will be up to par with the first! Thanks! :)**

**LibraryGeeks: DON'T DIE! I'm continuing it RIGHT now, see?! Go read! D:**

**Guest: Continuing! :D**

**Reading Time: 21 mins, but I could be wrong because I was distracted when I timed it.  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

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Chapter two: Smoke to Spark~

* * *

She inevitably sees him the next day.

She doesn't necessarily want to, but they're both tributes for the Quarter Quell and there's no getting around it. It may have been a bit easier to avoid him if they weren't living in the same building, but she thinks that with his constantly zeroing in on her (whether intentional or not) they could have been five _buildings_ away from each other and it wouldn't have made a difference.

She tries to act nonchalant when she spies him in the cafeteria for breakfast.

He's talking to Johanna and Mags and Beetee, and she doesn't know why but she immediately starts hurrying towards the food line before he can notice her. It's silly, but she finds it harder to keep her gaze on the muscled back of Gloss in front of her than it is for her to constantly crane her neck and see what Finnick's doing. It's a struggle, but she does manage to lock her neck and keep it from turning as she moves about the line, picking and choosing from the protein-filled foods the Capitol has chosen for them today from the refrigerated stainless steel sinks along the never-ending length of the buffet counter.

She takes her tray full of food and steps out of the line, trying her absolute best to scan the crowds and empty seats _without_ making it seem like she's avoiding locking gazes with Finnick in particular (even though she is), and her gaze rests on the familiar and comforting form of Peeta sitting at one of the tables on the far end of the room, talking with Haymitch. Feeling a sense of relief wash over her, she exhales and grips her tray and begins the trek to her fellow district partners, dodging and weaving through the various obstacles in her way and trying _not_ to notice the pair of eyes that have suddenly settled themselves on her moving form as she does so.

She makes it to her destination without flaw, and carefully sets her tray down beside Peeta's as she seats herself next to him.

She isn't sure why at first, but she makes sure to slide in next to him as close as possible, their sides pressing together on the bench seat even though there is plenty of room, and though she knows that he finds it odd and somewhat awkward (they never touch unless they're training or on camera) he doesn't object, either. And it's only after she does it that she realizes; she's doing it because of _him._ Finnick. She's trying to _prove_ to him that he's _wrong_ about Peeta, that she loves him and touches him plenty, and that close contact is no big deal for her.

She doesn't know why she cares; she has nothing to prove to him. And yet at the same time, she does. She _does_ have something to prove to him, which she supposes that in and of itself means that she doesn't. Or maybe she doesn't and really does. She doesn't know. Either way, she can feel quite clearly the pair of eyes staring smug holes into her back as she moves, and so she has no choice but to stay in the uncomfortable position she's put Peeta as well as herself in through the remainder of breakfast.

She expects (or rather, hopes) that the subtle action she's made will send him a clear message and steer him away from their table.

It doesn't.

If anything, it only makes him zero in on her even more, and before she's even aware of what's happening he's setting down his food tray and sitting next to Peeta on the other side of the bench.

"Hey, guys," he says, smiling to everyone at the table. "How's it hangin'?"

The way he says it, as though it's just another perfectly regular day and that they _hadn't_ had one of the most awkward conversations in history the night before, infuriates her, but she knows by now that her anger is his whole reason for coming over in the first place, and she's not about to give him the satisfaction of accomplishing his petty goal of making her mad.

Haymitch watches from his seat across from them, obviously picking up on their tension and clearly being amused, and she doesn't hesitate to try and put him in his place with a well-executed glare. It doesn't work, but she feels a bit better at having subtly released some of her building irritation, and having Peeta answer Finnick's pointlessly polite questions in her stead doesn't hurt either.

"Fine," Peeta says, drawing the corners of his mouth inwards for a half-smile as he pokes around at the leafy greens on his tray.

"Well that's good," Finnick says, smiling down at his own food. He pauses a few moments, and she's not _nearly_ stupid enough to try and spare a glance at him without getting caught, but she knows that he's not about to keep his mouth shut. "What about you, Katniss? How've you been?"

Her cheeks begin to redden the moment he's angled his head towards her, leaning over the table to look past Peeta as he does, and she knows that he's left the ball completely in her court. It's her decision now to choose how to respond, and he's counting on every one of her possible answers because she just _knows_ that he probably spends his nights wondering how he can mess with her next. He's probably imagined this scenario a thousand times in his sick little mind, but she's not about to just roll over and play dead for someone like Finnick Odair.

"I don't know - I've been too busy getting _annoyed_ by overly chatty womanizers lately."

Haymitch barks out a laugh, clearly enjoying himself, and Finnick stares at her with that same wide-eyed grin that he gave her last night, like he's shocked and pleased with her all at the same time. Regardless, it doesn't take him long to recover with a comeback of his own.

"Really? Which ones? Because if they're bothering you I can totally have a talk with them if you want."

Impressed but not intimidated, she's quick to play along. "Oh, you know; bronze hair, good build, likes to wield a trident..."

"Strikingly handsome?" He adds, quirking an eyebrow and stroking his chin.

"Oh, _very,"_ she says, scrunching her brows and nodding as though she agrees. "In fact, he's _so_ fabulous, I often mistake him for a woman - all that glitter and Capitol charm."

He looks down and chuckles, highly amused at the direction their conversation is taking, and is back with a response a beat later. "You must have caught him at a bad angle, then, because I've heard his face is unlike anything you've ever seen."

"Really?" She asks, feigning interest as she rests her hand on her chin and leans forward to get a better look at him over Peeta. "And how is his face?"

"It was carved by angels."

"And what about his hair?"

"It was styled by angels."

"And his voice?"

"It _sounds_ like angels."

"And what do angels sound like?"

He flashes a grin. "Like angels."

Peeta looks unsteadily between the two of them, obviously feeling awkward being in the middle of their unofficial argument. "Uh...I- I'm sorry, _what's_ going on right now?"

"_Stay_ out of this, Peeta."

"Okay."

"Why don't you just come _out_ with it, Fire Girl?" Finnick goads, smirking in that annoying way that he does. "Let _everyone_ know what's really on your mind?"

She contemplates his suggestion, and the smart thing to do (probably, anyway) would be to keep her mouth shut before rumors start to spread, but she's so fed up with his stupid face and infuriating attitude that she doesn't dwell on it long before she simply admits what she's really thinking. "Well I guess that _basically_ what I'm trying to tell you is to _stay away_ _from me_."

She carefully enunciates each of the key words so he'll understand (something he clearly seems to have trouble with) and judging by the look on his face that he gives her, like it's only just dawning on him that she's _not_ playing hard to get and that she really just _doesn't_ _like_ _him_, she has that tiny sliver of hope that maybe he'll _finally_ get it through his thick skull and back off for good. But again, it's wishful thinking.

He leans over Peeta's food tray, and by the way his eyes spark she can tell that she's already lost this battle, and _he_ knows it, too. But it doesn't seem to be enough for him to merely know that he's won. In fact she _knows_ it isn't, because she prepares herself for whatever clever words slip from his mouth in retort to her previous statement.

"And what _I'm_ trying to tell you is," he starts, mocking her. "That all your _efforts_ to _keep_ me away from you, are going to _fail."_

Her expression doesn't change save for her clenching jaw and the slight pursing of her lips, but she's _furious._

Never in all her years has she had to deal with someone so cocky, annoying, narcissistic, ignorant, ridiculous-

Deciding to quit before she gets ahead of herself, she abruptly slides out of the bench seat and stands, not bothering to take her tray as she storms off.

She knows that it probably only makes her seem even more childish to the other Victors, and that a _slew_ of things are probably flying through Haymitch and Peeta's heads right now, but she's so angry at the moment that she doesn't really care. The others' perception of her couldn't be less of a priority to her as she stomps her way back to her room with no intention other than to be alone and cool down, and everyone she passes - stylist and Avox alike - can clearly see the storm raging after her in her wake, knowing ahead of time to stay out of her way. She's glad for this; she's mad, but she doesn't want to snap at anyone unnecessarily.

She makes it to her room without incident, and wastes no time in collapsing onto her bed and screaming into her pillow.

She really hates losing.

* * *

About an hour later, she's doing okay again.

She's hungry, but too stubborn to go back into the cafeteria after her little 'episode', and her anger has (for the most part) subsided to the point where she can be civil and think logically again. She's embarrassed about her behavior, but again her stubbornness covers it up by reminding her of just how _annoying_ he had been, and that he deserved to be left hanging in the middle of a conversation for once in his Capitol-perfect life.

A knock comes at the door, and she sighs, knowing it's going to be either Haymitch or Peeta - only they would know to leave her alone for this long without coming to check on her. She gets up from her bed and walks over to the door, momentarily getting her head together before tightening her grip on the knob and opening the door. She begins to smile, the slightest of changes to the muscles in her mouth, but any attempts at such welcoming actions halt when her gaze falls upon not Peeta or Haymitch, but the broad form of none other than Finnick Odair.

She fixes him with a glare and unceremoniously slams the door in his face, and she's suddenly glad that she didn't waste time on something like _smiling, _but she doesn't get to slam the door - he shoves his arm in front of the jamb and past her shoulder and into her room, and they're suddenly staring at each other through the considerable amount of space he's created with his crushed limb.

"Woah, there! Now that wasn't very polite! Aren't you gonna invite me in?" He asks, smiling and lifting his eyebrows in what she can only assume is meant to be an innocent manner.

But unlike the Capitol girls he's so used to courting, she knows better than to assume he's anything of the sort. She doesn't respond, instead choosing to answer by pushing all of her weight against the door; to try and push him out or tear his arm off, she doesn't know, but she's fully prepared to cut off his circulation if she has to.

"Aww, come on!" He tries again, and she can tell he's struggling to keep the painful strain out of his voice. "I just wanna talk!"

She stops trying to push against the door and pauses to look at him, deciding. In the end, she releases her hold on his arm and opens the door back up, but makes it a point to stand in the middle of the doorway to make it clear that he's not welcome.

"Fine, but you're _not_ coming in. What do you want?"

He tilts his neck and rotates his shoulder, wiggling his fingers as he gets the feeling back into them.

"Phew. Man, you sure can pack a punch," he remarks, looking at the indents on his bicep caused by the corner of the door being smashed into it.

"What do you _want_, Odair?" She asks, patience quickly dwindling.

"I just want to apologize," he says, and for a moment she's taken aback. "At least I _did_ until you wouldn't let me in the door."

He looks over to his right at a couple of Capitol natives walking by, one of which she recognizes to be one of Cinna's helpers, and makes sure to raise his voice as he says, "I'M SORRY, FIRE GIRL, BUT I'M NOT _THAT_ KINKY! GAGS AND DUCT TAPE?! _PHEW!_"

Her eyes widen and her face floods with heat so fast that she doesn't give it a second thought; she grabs Finnick by his arm and yanks him inside.

She swiftly shuts the door before the onlookers can question her motives, and her previously settled anger flares up in the short second it takes her to whirl around and face him.

"Now was that so hard?" He asks, tilting his head and holding his hands out.

"What the hell is your _problem?!_" She hisses, ready to tackle him to the floor and start beating the life out of him.

"I told you," he says. "You wouldn't let me in. But now you have. Problem solved."

She's so angry that she's almost certain her hair is standing on end. "You son of a...how could you...what is your...URGH, you're such a..._dog!_"

"Well I'm not gonna lie," he smirks. "You _do_ make me pant."

She twists her face into an expression of disgust, and with nothing worthy to battle his perverted comment coming to mind, she grunts in frustration and turns away.

"_Gosh! _If I throw you a _stick_ will you go away?"

He looks up at the ceiling, thinking about it. "Yyyyyyyes. But only for as long as it takes me to find it. Then I'll just be coming right back here so you can throw it again."

She looks at him as though he's retarded, and because of his utter stupidity she can't think of anything else to say except, "_Ugh_..."

She walks past him and over to the table resting against the wall by the foot of her bed, the small desk lamp the only thing giving light in the cell-like room. She puts her hands on either side of the table and leans over, heaving a giant sigh to try and get rid of her fiery _whirlpool_ of emotions and calm herself down. Finnick is silent behind her, and for once, she's thankful.

"...What is wrong with you?" She asks finally, anger and irritation draining into exhaustion and sarcasm. "What on _Earth_ went through your head to make you think that I would want _anything_ to do with you? Please, enlighten me."

She isn't completely sure _why_ since she can't see him, but she knows that he's smiling smugly at her invitation to elaborate. And incidentally, she also knows that she's just put herself in an unwanted situation.

"Okay, then," he says, and she can _hear_ the smirk in his voice. "I will."

She almost laughs, but she's too smart to be comfortable around him now that they're alone and she's too aware of the fact that he's coming closer. She casually straightens her back and turns around to face him with her poker face, but he's already too close for her to _ever_ feel comfortable and in control backed against a table. He smiles down at her, eyes drifting downwards across her face until they rest on her lips, and in her steadily rising panic and discomfort she opens her mouth to throw him off.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know you don't love Peeta."

She freezes, and though she knows she should argue with him (for both Peeta's safety and hers) she finds her mouth unable to open. Instead, she merely stares at him with wide eyes, and he wastes no time in continuing down his list because apparently he already knew he was right.

"I know you'd sooner start a _rebellion_ than let anything happen to your sister. I know you've got enough fire in you to burn this whole Godforsaken _city_ to ashes. I know you need someone of equal or greater value to sail through this life with who you can't _walk_ all over. I know you had something going on with that 'cousin' of yours..."

She's aware of the fact that he's coming closer and closer with each fact he writes off, but it's not until she's leaning backwards over the table with her arms back and her hands pressed into the smooth wood that she realizes just how dire her situation is. His hands rest on the edges of the table at her sides, caging her much like he had done the night before. He doesn't touch her - in fact, she thinks that this is just about as close as _anyone_ could get to a person without touching them – but to her it's the closest form of intimacy she's ever experienced with a stranger and she doesn't like it. If anything it scares her, and he knows it. He leans closer, because he knows he can, and his face blurs and disappears from her line of sight as he angles it down towards her left shoulder.

"But most of all," he says, lowering his voice to a whisper as he begins inhaling and tracing his nose up the length of her neck. "I know that no matter how much you _act_ like you don't like it-" He pauses once he's reached the shell of her ear, and she absently wishes she hadn't worn a braid today. "You _want _me to touch you."

_Want_; the word leaves through his mouth in a single breath that fans across the side of her face and neck, heating the already flushed skin as she releases a shaky breath of her own.

Her knees grow weak and it's suddenly an exact re-play of the night before, except her head's too muddled and her heart's beating too fast for her to be angry enough to shove him away. His hands leave the desk and slide up the sides of her hips like liquid serpents, with fluid motions and sure movements that only he could pull off, and he breathes out another gust of heat across her jaw as he moves downward, his nose just brushing against the invisible hairs on her skin. She stands between him and the table, rigid as a steel rod as he moves, slow and steady, taking his time, and she desperately wishes the only clock in her room wasn't on the wall behind her because she's afraid they've been in here for _hours_, far too long for any pair of decent people to be alone in a room together.

She wants to snap out of it, to come to her senses and tell him not no but _hell_ _no_, but Finnick is a professional, heartthrob to the Capitol and loved by all – and she's nearly powerless against the years of experience he's surely attained from dealing with so many different women.

It's when he becomes more brazen that she's able to regain control of herself; he pushes her against the table and slips a hand under her shirt, and it's then that she's able to deal with the situation the way she _wants_ to - she shoves him off of her, grabs him by the collar and drags him to the door, swinging it open and throwing him outside.

"Was I moving too fast for you?" He asks once he's regained his footing and turned around to face her.

She doesn't respond, hoping her silence will be answer for him enough, but he ignores her hint and tries again with something a bit more direct. He moves forward as though expecting to be let back inside, and he's so sudden with it that he almost succeeds – she catches him at just the last second and forces him back to the other side of the line separating her plush purple carpet from the red-colored floors coating the hall outside, holding him by his collar to make sure he doesn't do it again. He looks down at her with a look that clearly implies his thoughts on the matter of her _dominating_ him out of her room, and it's just enough to make her tear her grip away from his shirt.

"Come on, Fire Girl," he says, eyes glinting. "Don't tell me you're not thinking about what coulda happened back there just now?"

She stares up at him with a steely expression, briefly glancing down and noticing the firm wrinkles in the cloth around his collar where she'd had her hand fisted just seconds ago, knowing her eyes are probably giving away more than her face ever could at the moment, and he stares right back, grinning down at her like a lovesick _madman_ because he knows he's right. And he is; she _does_ think about it – about what would happen if she drug him back inside and shut the door – and they both know it flashes clearly across her mind as she teeters on the threshold of her room and he stands outside in the hallway.

They stay like that for a few long seconds, and she can tell by the way he looks at her that he expects her to let him win, to give in and let him back inside so he can teach her all the things she has no knowledge of. But she doesn't. In fact, she does the one thing he probably least expects her to do.

She shuts the door.

* * *

**A/N: Was that suitable? I'm fairly happy with it but if you feel like it doesn't fit the tone of the last chapter or just wasn't as good for some reason, don't hesitate to let me know. I have a general idea of where I'm taking this, but I really don't know exactly what I'm going to do with it other than it won't be more than 4-5 chapters. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading, and don't forget to review; I love reading your thoughts! :D  
**

**'Til next time!**


	3. Pt I: Spark to Flame

**A/N: 03/20/2015 Okay, so JUST to avoid confusion, I changed the chapter titles. I realized that I had skipped the name for the first chapter and it threw me off, so I fixed it. So don't be confused, this is still a new chapter :)  
**

**Nightshade Mirakuru: Thanks for both your reviews! I loved 'em! :D And as for your question, the only other Finniss fanfiction that I absolutely LOVE right now (besides the ones you already mentioned) that comes to mind is _Kissing Lessons With Finnick_ by Miss Scarlett 05. It's not _completely_ Finniss, but if you haven't read it yet I suggest you do ;)**

**Guest: Thank you! I'm glad you think it's amazing! Yes, Finnick is genuinely attracted to Katniss, it's just in his nature to turn everything into games. I'm not sure about the Johanna/Katniss interactions yet (though I do love Johanna) but I'll try and see if I can fit something in there for you. And your English is fine, far better than most Americans, in fact :D**

**lalelu900: Thanks! :)**

**Asherah Isa: A million thanks! I hope this update came soon enough for you! :)**

**Reading Time: 15-16 mins.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter three: Spark to Flame~

* * *

She's on her way to the training room the next day when she runs into him again.

She'd had enough sense to take her breakfast tray from the cafeteria and retreat into her room, lest he decide to bother her like he had the previous morning (which she has no doubt that he would have), but she hadn't counted on running into him as she rounded the corner of the long and skinny hallway she knew lead to the elevators that descended to the training room.

It was too late to try and backtrack behind the corner she'd just turned by the time she noticed him walking towards her, but she gets the feeling he would've noticed her footsteps anyway. So, rather than turn around and walk back the way she came like she _wanted_ to, she straightened her back and stood her ground. She'd be damned if she was gonna let him alter her decisions just by _being_ there.

"Hey, Fire Girl," he greets, smiling as he walks up to her. "Do you know what the temperature's gonna be for today?"

She's a bit taken aback by his question, but she's dealt with him enough times by now to know that with him there's always an angle, and he's probably just using it as an opener for some perverted joke or disgusting pick-up line he's been dying to use.

Regardless of his intentions, she holds nothing back as she replies, "Yeah, I do, actually. It's gonna be a nice and breezy shut-the-hell-up degrees with a slight chance of screw you."

He laughs, smiling with wide eyes as he pretends to be offended. "Haha, _well! __Someone _woke up on the wrong side of the cage this morning!"

She doesn't give herself the chance to feel like an ass as she chooses to reply in the vaguest way possible. "Hmph..."

He comes to a stop just a few feet away, and she realizes that he apparently had no destination except for wherever she was. She _would_ find it disturbing, but considering that it's Finnick she's dealing with, disturbia quickly makes way for annoyance.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, slightly knitting her brows as she stares at him accusingly. "Your room is on the other side of the building."

"Well, believe it or not," he says, bowing his head as he steps closer. "Haymitch sent me to get you."

She stares at him with a disbelieving look, though she can tell by his smugness and overall 'I'm-supposed-to-be-here-and-you-have-to-deal-with-it' attitude that it's true. Anger flares in her chest like a fireball, and she feels the need to exhale some of the building heat as she attempts to simmer down. _Haymitch. _That stupid, good-for-nothing geezer. He just _loves_ that there's drama between the two of them. He's probably laughing himself to death right now, probably can't even drink properly because of it. She hopes he chokes on his alcohol.

"You okay, there, Fire Girl?" Finnick asks, waving his hand in front of her face. For a moment she thinks he's sincere, but that's before he smirks. "What's the matter? Can't get enough of me?"

"No," she says, pissed that he'd even _think_ she would ogle him. "I was just visualizing duct tape over your mouth."

"Oooh. Kinky." He grins, briefly running his eyes over her. "I like that."

She wrinkles her face in disgust. "Ugh..."

Having had enough 'Finnick' for one day (or for one _week_, for that matter), she angles herself away from him and brushes past him, ignoring him completely as her legs carry her the rest of the way down the hall. It's the cruelest she's ever been to another human being seeking to interact with her, blowing them off like that, but she knows by now that it's not nearly enough to keep Finnick away. He's catching up with her seconds later, and as she suspects, it's _him_ that starts the next round of conversation.

"You know, I didn't see you at breakfast this morning." He pauses to look down at her as they walk, trying to see how she'll react. "Mind telling me what's up with that?"

Rather than blow up in his face, she decides to take a rational approach to his pointless observation. "If you're concerned about my eating habits don't worry; I ate in my room."

He corrects his gaze and moves his head to stare back down the hall in front of them, but she knows their little 'talk' is far from over. "Well, you know what they say: an apple a day keeps the doctor away, right?"

"Pfft. An apple a day can keep _anyone_ away," she scoffs. "If you throw it hard enough."

He chuckles then, swinging his arm as they walk, and she silently wishes that the training room wasn't so far away. "You know, that's what I love about you, Fire Girl. Always throwing me a curve ball. Haha!"

She doesn't know what brings it on, exactly – maybe it's the unbridled joy he gets from annoying the crap out of her or the grating laugh he throws out – but she's suddenly irritated to the point of wanting to terminate this conversation immediately, and she holds nothing back as she stops walking and snaps, "Look, can I ignore you some other time? I'm _really_ not in the mood right now."

"Oh, I know," he says, looking at her and nodding. She quietly realizes that this is the first time she's ever seen him without some form of smile. "You haven't been yourself since yesterday."

She sarcastically widens her eyes and looks around the hall dramatically, as though she's surprised that he noticed. "_Really?_ You mean you can _tell?_"

He nods again, but this time he can't seem to help it as his smirk reemerges. "Yep. Noticed the improvement right away."

She's so offended and infuriated by his words that she doesn't even _grace_ him with a reply – she twists her face up and shoves past him, stalking the rest of the way down the hall and to the elevators.

It would have been best if he would have just let her leave and deal with her flaring emotions alone, but again, Finnick Odair is not one to ever give up – especially when it concerns women. He runs to catch up with her, grabbing hold of her wrist and spinning her around to face him, to which she responds by jerking her arm back so fast she almost brings it out of its socket.

Apparently he's smart enough now to know not to infuriate her with a smile, so he merely holds his hands up defensively and apologizes. "Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

He waits for her to say something, and when she doesn't - when all he gets is the sight of her pursed lips and hard glare - he decides it's time to turn down the charm and turn up the self-loathing. "Look, you have every right to be mad. I don't blame you. I know I can come on too strong sometimes. Can we please just get back to the task of me getting you to the training room before Haymitch smashes a bottle over my head? We can forget this ever happened."

The image of Haymitch smashing a bottle over Finnick Odair's head is a slim one, but she welcomingly entertains it as she decides she'd much rather see it than go anywhere with him – let alone an enclosed elevator. "How about _never,_ Odair? Is never good for you?"

He stares at her with what can only be described as a deer-in-the-headlights look (at least for Finnick Odair) and she can tell he's grinding the cogs in his brain in overtime to try and find another angle he can work to get closer to her, something that doesn't end in her punching him or shoving him away. She sees this, and so she wastes no time in turning sharply on her heel, braid snapping as she stalks away from him.

She finally reaches the elevators at the end of the hall and she feels a quiet satisfaction at having reached her goal, but just after she's pushed the 'call' button a tanned hand yet again reaches out and spins her around to face its owner.

"Would you _stop_ that?!" She snaps, struggling against him.

He lets her go willingly, either because he knows that it's not the right way to be on speaking terms with her again or he knows it's useless trying to calm her down, but doesn't back out of her personal space (which for Katniss is about ten feet) as he leans close and rests a hand on the elevator control panel next to her head.

"Now, now, Miss Everdeen," he half-heartedly scolds. "Play nice."

"_Screw you_," she sneers, resisting the urge to spit in his face.

"Now, if you don't have something _nice_ to say, don't say it. Didn't your mom ever teach you that?" He asks, squinting his eyes quizzically as his mouth curls up in the slightest of smirks.

She knows that he's purposely spared her of whatever perverted comeback he'd had ready on his lips, but she's hardly appreciative of it as her anger reaches new heights. "You know, I _could_ say nice things about you, but I think I'd rather tell the truth."

"Really?" He asks, face perking up in genuine interest. "And what, pray tell, is the truth, Miss Everdeen?"

Being the conservative young woman that she is, in situations like these Katniss would normally hold her tongue and just walk away. But of course, she's never had to deal with someone so persistently annoying like Finnick Odair, and so it's to be expected that she would reach her breaking point eventually. She gives one last ditch effort to purse her lips as far as they will go and hold it all in, but in the end she's unable to hold herself back and the next thing she knows she's already snapped.

"_URGH!_ You wanna know what the truth is, Odair? Fine. The truth is that I've NEVER in all my LIFE had to deal with someone like you!" He only manages to smirk wider at her outburst, so she has little trouble in continuing her rant. "You're cocky, you're annoying, you're narcissistic, you're ignorant, ridiculous, infuriating, you think you've got the whole WORLD on your plate and that everything you want should be served to you on a silver platter, EVERYTHING is a game to you! And not to _ment__ion_ the fact that you have no-"

He's kissing her before she even realizes what's happening, and it only makes her even more confused when the elevator doors open behind her and she's pushed to the back of the confined cylindrical box. Her nerves feel like they've been overloaded, like they've literally been fried with electricity and the connection to her brain and body have been temporarily severed, and she's left feeling so shocked that she can't really do anything other than grab onto Finnick's shirt as he cups her face and weaves his hands into her neatly braided hair.

The elevator doors close and they begin descending to the training room floor, but she's barely able to notice as Finnick's hands leave her hair to slide down her sides and her brain continues to fritz. It's strange – she's kissed Peeta plenty of times but she doesn't recall ever feeling any sudden muscle spasms or electric jolts or fireworks working their way through the pit of her stomach and into her chest. She feels like a faulty Capitol device, like there's something wrong with her wiring and she's unable to form complete actions or thoughts like she wants to; like she's _supposed_ to.

And it's only because of Finnick that she's even able to be fixed – he leaves her mouth and trails his nose down the side of her neck before softly biting down on her jugular, and it's like that single nerve was the cause of all her problems and it merely needed to be reconnected to her brain so she could regain control of her body again.

She gasps, having fully realized what it is she's allowed to happen, and Finnick is able to steal one last kiss before she takes full control and pushes him away. He doesn't go far because he's got a tight grip on the metal bar behind her that encircles the elevator for those that are afraid of heights or weak in the knees (as she currently is now), but he's given her a good six inches of space and she knows that it's probably all she'll ever get from him at this point, and in all honesty she doesn't have the strength needed to push him away as far as she wants to.

"You have...no taste..." she breathes, mindlessly finishing her rant.

Finnick chuckles, though it's a very light, airy sound, and she realizes that he's just as - if not _more_ than - out of breath than she is. "Well, Fire Girl, lemme tell you; _you_ certainly don't."

She would have blushed if she hadn't felt so tired and buzzed, but her thoughts come and go and they aren't really connected to each other, and the only one that she's really able to hold onto for more than a second is the curiosity and wonder as to what she tastes like, if he says she doesn't taste like nothing. Whatever it is it must be good, because his gaze drifts downward and lingers on her lips for a few long moments before he leans in to capture them again, and in her daze she lets him kiss her before flattening her palms on his chest and creating some distance between them.

They stare at each other for some time after that, neither saying a word, and she realizes that this is the first time she's ever really bothered to study his face. It's then that she notices his eye color.

They're green.

Sea-green.

In fact, they're _so_ green, so bright and vivid – dare she say stunning – it baffles her that it's taken her this long to notice. Her mind _spirals_ upon this realization, and she momentarily panics when she can't recall the color of Gale or Haymitch or Effie or Peeta's eyes, people she's spent considerable amounts of time staring at and even more time sharing her life with. Finnick seems to grow amused at her inner turmoil, picking up on it with his Playboy radar or something or other, and it's then that her frantic thinking stops. She stares up at him, eyes ablaze as she prepares a defensive-aggressive remark, when a light 'ping!' sounds above them and the elevator doors suddenly open.

Finnick stares down at her, grinning like he's just charmed her into his room and _not_ into an elevator, and she would have felt a sense of repulsion if not for the uncharacteristically warm affection behind his gaze.

"See you around, Fire Girl."

He turns around and leaves, suddenly making his departure, and she hates it.

Hates what she's done, what she's let him do, the situation she's in – everything.

She spends the next two hours in the training room, pretending that the target dummies have green eyes and tan skin.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for any typos. I went over this thing like _5 times_ for corrections and such, so it's more than possible that during all the changes I made a few mistakes. I had to look it up to make sure that Finnick had green eyes, I actually ran into a really bad writer's block until I looked it up T_T  
**

**Anyway, I've decided that this story will have 5 chapters. No more, no less. Well, maybe more. And that would only be to cover Finnick's point of view. So...10 chapters tops. Maybe, probably, idk. What do you think?**

**But yeah, thank you to everyone that's reading, and _especially_ those that bothered to review ;)**

**'Til next time!**


	4. Pt I: Flame to Inferno

**A/N: 03/24/2015  
**

**TheDrawer: Thank you so much! :D**

**Dyana: Thank you! I hope this is a fast enough update for you, lol. And oh, I just _love_ writing witty banter between two characters! I'm really glad you liked that in the last chapter. And YES, there will be plenty more of it to come, particularly this chapter ;)**

**Calliope's Scribe: Eeee! Thank you! :D I'm so immensely flattered that you love this story and you think I write well. By all means, gush to your heart's content. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint, you're welcome! :)**

**Foreverlovingalways: Oh my goodness thank you! If this is your life right now then I don't want to disappoint! Read on! :D**

**Asherah** **Isa: Holy crap thanks for your review. I'm glad you like this story so much. Really. Enjoy the new chapter! :D**

**Nightshade Mirakuru: Hm, interesting. I've actually been thinking about it and I think that maybe I will. It would end at the end of Catching Fire, though, when they're going away in the hovercraft. I don't want this thing to end up being _80_ chapters long D: Thank you for your input, I greatly appreciate your feedback and opinions! Btw, did you ever check out that story? ;)**

**Heslen: Lol I know, right? I _wanted_ to put a slap or two in there, but it didn't end up fitting in with the flow of my writing and I couldn't find a place for it. Who knows, though. Maybe in a future chapter XD**

**Reading Time: 15-16 mins.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

****EDIT 05/10/2015*** - Changed the ending paragraphs around a little bit, as Stephanne21 pointed out some of the flaws in this chapter. Thanks, Stephanne!**

* * *

Chapter four: Flame to Inferno~

* * *

It feels like a _week_ since the elevator incident, but in reality it's only been a few days.

Finnick stopped his annoyingly straightforward advances, and in the course of only a few hours she became dangerously suspicious – had he gotten what he wanted? Was he going to stop messing with her for good now? Was he trying some kind of new, dastardly tactic that she had never encountered before and therefore had no idea how to deal with? Had he found someone else to capture his interest? - All of these things and more flew through her head over the past four days, and Katniss Everdeen was beginning to think she was driving herself mad.

She doesn't know why, but she just can't stop thinking about it.

It baffles her that he would just stop messing with her completely, as it makes almost _no_ sense at all, and it makes her angry that she can't figure out his motives. His sudden inconsistency towards her is infuriating, yet she knows that she should feel happy and relieved that she's finally being left alone. She would never bring herself to admit (or even think to admit, for that matter) that she actually missed him, of course, but it doesn't mean that the lack of his presence isn't constantly at the back of her mind. She's getting used to being alone for most of the day again, yet it doesn't seem to bring her the same sense of peace and solace that it used to.

She tells herself it's because she's being overrun with a sense of paranoia at being so abruptly thrown back into her old routine, thinking at any second Finnick Odair will swing around the corner and shock her into his bedroom, but even _she_ isn't that much of a liar to believe it. She knows fully well that it doesn't feel the same anymore to go about her day like she used to, and it's a feeling that's mostly neutral but borders on the negative side, which she admittedly doesn't like. She's just too stubborn to acknowledge the cause of it.

Katniss stands up from the lounge chair she's been sitting on for the past two hours, mildly stretching out her back. She feels her spine pop as she does so, which no doubt is a result from being hunched over thinking herself to death for so long. She looks over at the indoor swimming pool a few yards away – compliments of the Capitol – with its bluer than blue waters and eerie, ever-moving reflections wriggling on the walls and ceiling, and sighs.

She had decided to go for a swim to try and clear her head (and because she couldn't sleep) but ended up being in the water for only a few minutes before she changed and dried herself off on one of the lounge chairs. It wasn't that late – nine or ten o'clock at best – but she felt as though she'd been up all night. Which was strange, because at the same time it felt as though she had boundless energy. At least enough to think herself into oblivion for two hours. In a nutshell, her body felt tired but her mind didn't. Which wasn't a very good combination. She knew this, but it didn't stop her from tiring herself into next _Tuesday,_ or whatever the saying was. And now her hair was dry, her time was wasted, and she didn't feel any better.

Deciding to just call it quits, Katniss wrapped her sleeping robe around herself and tied it off at her waist (which was more for warmth than anything, she shouldn't have been stupid enough to go trotting out into the halls in a tank top, shorts, and bare feet) grabbing her towel off the chair behind her and checking to make sure she wasn't leaving anything else behind. Once she was satisfied, she decided to leave, but she hadn't gone two steps when she noticed a figure standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Fire Girl!" Finnick greeted, giving a little wave. "I didn't know you went on midnight swims too!"

After the shock of seeing him after so long, let alone _speaking_ with him, passes, she can't help but feel annoyed at how loud he's being when the others are trying to sleep. Not that they would hear him, thanks to the swimming pool being on the other side of the building (but unfortunately still on the same floor), but it still doesn't sit well with her to come _bounding_ into the nearest room and burst out every sentence at the top of your lungs (which granted, is an exaggeration, but it might as well be the truth at this hour).

"I _don't,_" she replies, face stony except for the slight furrowing of her eyebrows.

She can tell by the expression on his face that he expects her to say more, but in truth she doesn't have anything more to say. _He_ on the other hand appears to have no problem continuing a one-sided conversation, and she mentally prepares herself for the probability that she won't be coming out of here for at least another hour.

"Well since we're here we might as well keep each other company, right?" He grins, and when she gives no reply he adds, "Can you help me out?"

This sparks something within her chest, something fiery.

Similar to anger but more akin to pride, she feels the need to throw out a smart retort. "Sure. Which way'd you come in?"

Angry, she crosses the distance between them, taking extra care not to slip on the tiled floor and make a fool of herself, and pauses in front of him for just a moment before shoving past him and going down the hall. She really wished the pool wasn't on the same floor as the bedrooms.

"_Woah,_ Fire Girl!" He exclaims, taking a moment to recover from his shock before trotting up to walk beside her. "Who lit the fuse on _your_ tampon?"

Normally she would be so angry at his perverted comment that she wouldn't even be _able_ to formulate a snappy sentence on her own, but she's been away from him long enough to recharge her sarcastic tongue and quick wit, and she has a worthy comeback ready in less than a second. "Yes, we're all _refreshed_ and challenged by your unique point of view towards women and their mood swings, Odair."

He places a hand over his heart in false offense. "_Pardon_ me, miss Everdeen! But you've _obviously_ mistaken me for someone who _gives_ a damn!"

She scoffs, her head lilting with the movement. "Are you always this sarcastic?"

He smiles. "Sarcasm is just one more service I offer."

He quiets down then, and she's thankful for it. The overly dark and blue hallway they walk down is far too long for her liking; she wants her room to be _right there_ so she can go inside and shut the door in his face. The wind slips through her hair and pushes it past her shoulders as she walks, and Finnick has to expend more energy than he's used to in order to keep up with her. She gets an odd satisfaction from this, but she's not about to let him know that she feels smug about besting him at such a menial task as walking.

They have to round two corners to get to her room, and the entire way there is tense with silence, but she doesn't care enough to break it as her door number comes into view. She doesn't want him to follow her to her room, afraid and all too aware of what might happen, but she knows in the grand scheme of things that she really has no choice. Finnick will follow because he's Finnick, and she will say nothing because she's herself. But it _doesn't_ mean that she's happy about it.

It's been four days since they last spoke with each other and he _still_ manages to get on her last nerve with just a few sentences, so there's really no point in talking with him knowing that she'll just walk away angrier than she already is, but she can't seem to help herself as they come to stand by her door and another curt remark comes tumbling out of her mouth. "Do you know what your problem is, Odair?"

His gaze snaps to her, eyes brightening. "Something hard to pronounce?"

His ears perk up when he's interested, she notices, but she doesn't allow herself to feel amused or humored at the fact in the midst of her initial anger.

"You're unbelievable!" She whispers, face going red. "I have had four days of _peace_ without you around! And _now_ you decide to bug the crap out of me? _Why?!_"

"Oh, don't mind me," he says, holding his hands up and taking a step back. "I'm just waiting for an admittance."

Her anger freezes over instantly, and she puts it on hold for confusion and befuddlement. "_Admittance?_"

He nods, grinning. "You got it, Fire Girl. Figured if I waited you'd come to me, but I guess I should've known you'd play hard to get."

She gapes at him. "Wha- admittance of _what?_ I have _nothing_ to prove to you!"

He bows his head and sighs, as though he's dealing with an irate little child, and the amount of time he takes being silent almost starts to unnerve her.

Almost.

"...Let's make a deal," he says suddenly, and she immediately shifts her weight between her feet, on guard. "I promise to leave you alone, and _never_ bother you again-" he steps closer, and red flags go up in her head so fast it's ridiculous. "If _you-_" he's officially invaded her personal space now, and she swallows as she flattens herself against the door to her room. "Just admit-" he leans in close and she pulls her face back, thinking he's going to kiss her again, but he drifts sideways at the last second and whispers in her ear. "That you _liked_ it."

She knows he's referring to the elevator incident, yet some tiny voice in the back of her mind tells her he's also referring to all of their shared experiences as a whole, not just one. He pulls back to look at her, and although he's smirking, she sees a vulnerability in his eyes that contradicts the look he's giving her. She blinks to make sure she's not imagining it, and she finds it strange that he would care so much about her opinion when he knows fully well that he's probably the most experienced Playboy in the entire Capitol.

She opens her mouth to say no, that she didn't enjoy one _second_ of it, but stops herself a moment later when she realizes it would be a lie. She doesn't want it to be a lie – she _wants_ it to be the truth – but the fact remains, she did indeed enjoy her stolen moments with Finnick Odair. She's not a fan of lying, in fact she hates it, but she's also too stubborn to admit defeat. So she does what she does best, and that's keep her mouth shut.

She waits, motionless as she stares Finnick down, and as the moments pass she can see that he knows she has no intention of budging. If he's disappointed he doesn't show it, but she somehow knows that he is, or at least will be. But he still stands there, smiling less than a foot away like he's patiently waiting for her to answer. Except he _isn't_ patient, and before she knows it he's giving up and turning away.

She doesn't think, she just acts.

Her movements are panicky, but she does what she aims to do – she grabs him by his shirt and yanks him towards her, closing her eyes as their lips clumsily collide with each other. They stay like that for a few moments, and it feels like it takes forever for him to pull away, and her eyelids open so slowly she has to refocus her vision in order to clearly see the face in front of her.

Finnick's eyes shoot wide open, and after less than a second he blinks several times to brush away his shock. For a flicker of a moment she thinks maybe she's made the wrong decision, that maybe this _wasn't_ the kind of answer he wanted, but her fears are quickly dispelled when his mouth spreads into a wide grin.

"I knew you'd come around."

She almost bothers to roll her eyes, but she doesn't get the chance to; his mouth comes crashing down onto hers a moment later, and before she knows it she's kissing him back.

He pushes her back against the door to her room, his hands sliding down the sides of her face and neck as he fervently kisses her. His interests drift from the corner of her mouth to the edge of her jaw, and as he lowers his head to get better reach she takes the opportunity to coil her arms around his head and run her fingers through his hair. Her heart beats a little stronger than usual as she does this, as it's always been _him_ to initiate their contact in the past and she's not sure what he will and won't like, but he groans and lets out a long, heated breath against her neck and her uncertainty disappears.

Her hands roam freely, fingers passing through countless bronze locks that are far softer than hers have ever been, and she's wholeheartedly overcome with a _whirlpool_ of emotions and feelings that are completely foreign to her. Finnick kisses down the length of her neck, his hands untying her sleep robe and moving to slide down her clothed sides as he moves lower and lower, and she gasps as he curls his hands around the backs of her legs and hoists her up, kissing a scattered pattern back up to her mouth as she automatically wraps her legs around his waist.

It's all a blur, but he opens the door to her room and locks it behind them, his lips never losing contact with hers, and suddenly she's lying on her back at the foot of her bed that's far too large for any one person and he's kissing her and running his fingers through her hair and it's all just too much. Finnick seems to realize this, and he momentarily pulls away to stare back at her, eyes questioning yet sincere as he pauses to let her think things through, and it's then that images of Peeta and Haymitch and Prim and Gale and her District all come crashing through her mind at once, and she realizes just how bad of an idea this is to be so close to someone who might just as well be plotting her demise in The Games just hours from now.

She opens her mouth to say something, but what comes out surprises them both. "What about Annie?"

He completely freezes, rigid as a block of ice as he stares at her with wide eyes.

She had overheard a few of the other Victors talking amongst themselves while in the training room, and Finnick happened to come up in their conversation. They mentioned an 'Annie', and with the way they snickered about her she could only assume that she was Finnick's secret lover. She had heard about her, Annie Cresta - about how she made it through The Games and her mind came undone - but she would never have guessed that she had links to Finnick, least of all in a romantic sense.

Finnick, though shocked at her knowledge of such things, doesn't hesitate to counter her question with one of his own. "What about Peeta?"

He says it like he's been wanting to say it for a long time, and it's in that moment that she thinks maybe they've been in the same boat all along; [erhaps they _both_ were forced to act out a love story, to fake feelings that weren't there to protect the people they loved - she was protecting Peeta's life, he was protecting Annie's sanity. She wasn't the only one leading someone on in order to preserve their happiness. The only differences were that he didn't have his relationship publicized and he was a born actor; _she_ was having the 'star-crossed lovers' theme shoved down her throat left and right and she couldn't act to save her life, otherwise she wouldn't be going into the Quarter Quell.

And maybe _that's_ why he'd decided to pursue her so vehemently, to pester her and pester her until she finally gave in; because he saw past her cold and hard exterior and noticed the kindred spirit underneath. Just _hours_ ago she would've found that kind of emotional depth to be silly and nonexistent within the heart of someone like him, but she's finding more and more that she doesn't know him nearly as well as she thought she did in the first place.

She answers both of their questions with a kiss, and he seems to be perfectly content with this outcome as he enthusiastically responds.

She doesn't know what will happen or how their relationship will change when the morning comes, and she has absolutely no idea why he was even interested in her to begin with - but then again, she may never truly understand someone as charming and complicated as Finnick Odair.

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**A/N: Wooo. MAN this was hard to write! I swear, this was a tough one to get out. Like, REALLY tough. In fact, this is the most hard-to-write chapter I've done of this entire story so far x_x And just so you know, this is NOT going to go into an M rating. I think sex is disgusting and I will never have it in any of my stories, and I'm sure it's confusing how that rule wasn't broken here, but you'll see in the next chapter.  
**

**Anyway, please review! I love reading your thoughts! :)**

**'Til next time!**


	5. Pt I: Inferno to Ashes

**A/N: 05/7/2015 I deeply, DEEPLY, apologize for not updating. Things have been really crazy this year, moving so fast I can't even catch up with them. It's like I blink and then bam, it's two weeks later. Anyway, please please _please_ enjoy this update. I know it's been a while waiting, so I made it nice and long (over 5,000 words) and it's also in Finnick's POV, so it should be a real treat for you guys :)**

**CelestialTitania: YES, I agree. Ms are gross XP But anyway yeah, enjoy the chapter. Finniss is my favorite HG ship too! :D**

**Ilovecandy61: I am soooo sorry I made you wait SO long! Truly, I am :( But I'm here now, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

**mum2shane: Sorry I took so long! But I hope you enjoy this update :)**

**tlyxor1: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well :)**

**Guest****: Ah, got it. Thanks for the input, I'll fix that right away!**

**xxcue the rainxx: Thank you very much! I hope you enjoy this chapter!** :D

**Stephanne21: Hey thanks for the feedback! I'm glad you pointed out the flaws of the last chapter, I'll go back and fix them :) Anyway, enjoy the update! XD**

**Anabanana23: Hahaha ohh, I love your username XD Thanks! And enjoy the update!**

**Dyana****: Aww, thank you! I'm glad you like this fic so much! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Renee01****: Yep! Katniss came around, alright. Like you said, just took her some time. And yay! I'm glad you agree with me on not changing this story to M. It's soooo gross XP Enjoy the update!**

**Calliope's Scribe: Ahh thank you! I'm glad you like it and that you think I write their characters so well! And though I highly doubt this fic is like reading the books, I'm glad it's up to that level for you. Please enjoy this update! :D**

**Reading Time: 20 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter five: Inferno to Ashes~

* * *

She wakes up to the feeling of her hair moving.

He knows this, because he's the one responsible for it.

Finnick smiles down at the young brunette Victor as she slowly opens her eyes, careful not to let his mouth spread into a grin so as not to upset her.

He's lying next to her on his side, one hand propping up his head while the other shamelessly plays with her dark curls, and he watches her fully awaken with the fascination of a young child witnessing a butterfly escaping its cocoon. Her braid has long since been undone, and he'd be a shameful liar if he said he hadn't taken advantage of the opportunity to run his fingers through her thick mane even long after she'd fallen asleep.

He doesn't know why, exactly, but there's something about her in the mornings that is ridiculously attractive. Which he knows is strange, because she's not inherently pretty to begin with - her face is a series of hard edges and sculpted corners, and her cold demeanor and fiery eyes contradict each other to the point of hypocrisy - but she exudes a confidence that is unmistakeably her own and she is one hundred and ten percent sure of herself and her beliefs, and he supposes that it isn't so much her shell as it is what lies beneath it, that quiet fire that burns just behind her eyes that he finds so alluring; and he doesn't mind it one bit.

Katniss squeezes her eyes shut and grunts softly, moving her arms above her head to stretch as she does so, and he can immediately tell she's not a morning person. The precious few seconds he's been granted of her 'Sleeping Beauty' phase is long gone, and he mentally prepares himself for the unwelcoming Troll that is coming to take its place.

"Ugh, what _time_ is it?" She groans, bringing her arms down to press the heels of her palms into her eyes.

Her tank top stretches upwards as she moves her arms, exposing a fair line of skin, and though he knows it's not the best of ideas, he simply can't help himself as he reaches down and slides his hand up beneath the fabric, fingers skating across her skin like a spider before flattening his hand against her stomach.

She wastes no time in reprimanding him, though he relishes in her morning grogginess as she takes a split-second longer than usual to shove his arm away.

"Morning," he replies, smiling widely as he knows this vague answer will annoy her.

"Ugh...I know _that_," she grumbles harshly, blindly slapping him on the arm (a blow that was no doubt meant for his face). "I mean what _time_ is it? Be _specific_, you jerk."

"Haha, _woah!_" He chuckles, brows rising in amusement. "Kitty's got claws! Who woulda thought Fire Girl was so good at being cold?"

She takes her hands away from her eyes to stare at him sardonically, and he in turn reacts the way she knows only _he_ would do; he rolls the upper half of his body over, arms resting atop her curls and elbows encasing her head, as he dips his face towards hers, eyes drifting slowly down to her lips.

"Well," he begins, voice light. "At the moment, it's five thirty. But if you keep staring at me like _that_, it'll be seven or eight by the time _you_ get outta here."

He grins, knowing that the cogs in her brain are working to decipher his rather suggestive insinuation, but he doesn't let her get that far – he quickly descends upon her mouth, capturing her lips in a kiss that is _far_ too fiery for the cold, bland mornings of the Capitol.

She grunts in frustration and surprise and pushes him back past the barrier he has secretly come to call 'the safety zone', or the personal bubble of space which Katniss is hardly _ever_ in the mood to give up (with the exception of last night, of course), and he swears his tongue burns and his lips tingle from contact with hers. He wonders if that's just her genuine taste or if she has fireworks in her mouth.

"Get off me," she grumbles irritably, wrinkling her eyebrows and slowly blinking away her grogginess.

His response is the exact opposite of what she wants, and he can practically _feel_ the heat of her anger rising up through her skin as he moves to lay almost completely on top of her. It's quite comical, and he smiles the biggest smile his facial muscles will allow as she struggles beneath his weight and he wraps his arms around her in a bear hug, chest vibrating with mirth.

She grunts beneath him, and he can feel the irritation she feels at being helpless reach new heights as she exhales sharply, her hot breath hitting the side of his neck in a way that reminds him of a pissed off bull, and he chuckles at the thought of his little lion trying to play tough. This action only proves to anger her further, and he knows that she's on the verge of doing something drastic just so she can come out on top with her dignity and pride still intact.

"I'm serious, Finnick," she says, voice tight. "Get. _Off._"

He knows very well that this isn't a request, and though he's tempted to hug her tighter just to see what she'll do, he reluctantly obeys her order.

He rolls off of her, successfully reigning in his smirk as she stands up from the bed, straightening her tank top and shorts before swiftly walking to the bathroom, either too stubborn or too embarrassed to look back at him as she does so.

He smiles at the door that is promptly slammed in his face from fifteen feet away, unable to keep his happiness in any longer.

He finds it funny that, even though she admittedly wanted him, the most she was willing to do with him was make out in her room. But of course, although it was a personal fantasy of his, he never really expected her to go farther than that in the first place. Hell, he'd bet that she hadn't gotten _nearly_ as close with her 'cousin' Gale as she had with him. In fact, last night was probably the highest form of intimacy she had ever experienced. And, for some odd reason, he was glad that it was with him. She was so unlike the Capitol girls that fawned over him; the exact opposite, really. She was so strange...

He sighs after a few moments, and, bored, he crawls over to the endtable by the bed and grabs hold of the controller for the holographic windows, flipping through them with all the interest of a spoiled Capitol boy.

Sky.

Garden.

Streets.

Overview of the Capitol.

Waterfall.

Woods.

After rounding the limited channels twice in a row, he decides to settle on the woods. There was nothing there that hadn't been available years before, he realized, but there was something about the woods, about the natural sounds of creaking wood and chirping birds and the overall feeling of peace and serenity, that he found inexplicably alluring out of all the other false scenery. Perhaps it's the emptiness, or the lack of people, all bustling and chattering and moseying about, that he finds most attractive about the woods. Or maybe it's just the colors. Either way, he can't really bring himself to settle on any other channel, and in all honesty he doesn't care to.

He stares for a moment, appreciating the life-like detail of the hologram's projection, when he hears movement behind him.

He turns his head curiously, finding Katniss standing just outside the bathroom, looking at him with a strange expression that he can't quite place. He nearly opens his mouth to ask what's on her mind, but he doesn't have to; she speaks to explain herself a moment later.

"Is that...is that your favorite channel?" She asks, voice just the slightest bit timid.

He briefly looks back to the lush, tall grass and evergreen trees portrayed on the wall before turning back to her. "Uh...yeah. I mean it's not like there's anything else on these things that are of any count, so I guess you could say this one's my favorite. Why?"

She blinks rapidly, unsure. "Nothing, it's just..." She pauses, as though deciding whether or not to disclose something personal about herself to him, and for a moment he thinks she'll brush it off and move on to something else entirely, but apparently she deems it as a secret unworthy of protection as she finishes, "That one's my favorite too."

It's a simple thing, something that most other people wouldn't think twice about letting slip in conversation with even the most complete of strangers, and yet he can't find it in himself to laugh.

Because he knows. Knows that, although it's something he would normally chuckle over and tease someone for, it's something that Katniss herself had difficulty sharing, and yet went through the trouble to do so anyway.

And besides, Katniss wasn't just 'anyone' – she wasn't some loose Capitol woman who was willing to share her innermost secrets with a near-stranger in exchange for some intimacy. No, she was someone who valued their secrets, their privacy and dignity. One who despised the Capitol and all it stood for, who loved their sister and prided themselves in their own self-worth. She was unlike anything he had ever seen. And the more he dwelled on it, the more he realised – he absolutely loved it.

Finnick darts his eyes to the bed he's lying on, realizing he was probably making her doubt her decision to speak with his staring, and idly wets his dry lips before moving to sit up at the edge of the bed, the pads of his toes meeting the soft, plush carpet below as he prepares an answer that is both true and uncatered to her needs. After all, what good would it do him to give her an answer she would see right through?

He clears his throat, bringing a fist up to his mouth to slightly muffle the sound, and says, "Well, then. Looks like we both have similar tastes, huh, Fire Girl? I mean who'da thought that of all the things we have in _common,"_ he pauses to chuckle at his own sarcasm. "Our taste in scenery would be one of them, right?"

She crosses her arms and gives him a look, like one would do to a friend that's just said something stupid, but otherwise seems unaffected by his reaction to her telling him something she normally wouldn't.

Encouraged, he decides to take it one step further by adding, "Call me a sap, but, I've always found something..._majestic,_ about the woods. Maybe it's the trees, or the colors...or maybe it's just the fact that I wouldn't have to worry about hundreds of middle-aged Capitol women trying to sink their cougar claws into me, but I like to pretend I'm in the middle of a forest sometimes."

It's not exactly a lie – he _has_ wondered what it would be like to be alone in the middle of the woods, just not in such great detail, and not nearly as often.

Yes, it's a bit of a gamble on his part, as it could either progress or halt his slow-building relationship with the strange and elusive Katniss Everdeen, but also a necessary one, he tells himself, because if he ever hopes to uncover even a _speck_ of a clue as to what she's really about, the only way to do that would be to give her a piece of information about himself in exchange. After all, he's dealt half his life in secrets. And what would that say about him if by now he didn't know how to get them?

Katniss seems a bit skeptical of him now, and he can tell by the slight tilt in her head and the squinting of her eyes that she's trying to call his bluff.

It won't work, he knows, because it _isn't_ a bluff – not completely – but he admires her quick-wittedness and careful consideration of his words before replying.

"Funny," she says suddenly, and he looks at her inquisitively. "I would've thought you'd be more of a water man. Beaches by the sea and all that."

He drops his head and chuckles, perfectly aware of her nearing feet as he looks back up at her to deliver his snarky response. "Yes, well...that _would_ be my _ideal_ setup. Ocean that stretches out as far as the eye can see, with plenty of trees and forest right past the beach. Hell, maybe if I'm lucky the Capitol will have something similar to that in the arena, huh?"

She's standing in front of him now, and he realizes he's made a mistake when she stiffens at his mentioning of The Games. Though he mentally scolds himself for taking away from the lightheared banter they'd been sharing, he doesn't stop himself from throwing out another sentence or two to steer the conversation back to where it was and regain that sense of lightness.

"You better watch yourself, Fire Girl," he says playfully, smiling when he sees her eyes lock curiously onto him. "I'm not one to brag, but I'm pretty good at fighting. I'm not gonna lie. And you never know – you could be walking in the woods, _miles_ from the Cornucopia, and I could just-" he pauses for effect, stretching out the tension as he grabs her hips and pulls her closer to whisper against the shell of her ear, "-_Take_ you."

She makes a sound of disgust in the back of her throat, scrunching up her nose and wrinkling her eyebrows as she does so, and slaps his shoulder – hard. She's quick to try and get away from him, but he's quicker - he stands up from the bed, his hands still at her sides, and before she can react he spins them both around, reversing their positions. She panics, stumbling back, and he doesn't bother to hold her in place because he has her right where he wants her. His hands slip from her hips and she falls backwards onto the bed, bouncing slightly from the weight of her fall, and just as she's realized her mistake, it's too late.

He lowers himself onto the bed, smiling in amusement when she scrambles out from under him even though she has nowhere to go, and with each frantic movement she takes back he matches them with one forward. He crawls overtop her once she runs into the headboard, grinning, and he's about to gloat over his victory when his hand accidentally brushes over the bare skin of her torso. Her shirt had been hiked up during her attempts to get away, and he would have paid it no mind if it weren't for the sudden gasp that escaped her lips.

His eyes dart to hers, locking onto them with a sudden intensity she clearly hadn't been expecting judging from the look on her face, and they both freeze at the sudden heaviness that hangs between them in the air.

Curious, he takes the hand resting below her navel, eyes never leaving hers, and presses his palm lightly into her skin. She seems to have expected this, because she is able to bring her previous reaction down into a mere labored breathing pattern, but to him it's obvious nevertheless – she likes it. He repeats the action, just to be sure, with more pressure than before, and this time he _does_ get a reaction. She closes her eyes and grunts softly, digging the back of her head into the pillow as she raises her chin in pleasure.

When she opens her eyes to stare at him again, she grows rigid, eyes widening in embarrassment as she registers the look on his face. There's a small spark behind her eyes, yes, but there's a fire in his own that she clearly hadn't anticipated - if he had known about this last night, he would've been more brave and less worried about turning her off. She opens her mouth but no sound comes out - either because she's speechless or she just can't get the words out, he can't tell – but he doesn't give her the chance to voice her opinion as he leans down and kisses her.

The hand that had been resting on her stomach disappears from its place in favor of her hair, and he makes sure to keep his movements slow and paced; if he moves too fast, he's sure she'll stop him from doing what he wants to.

He leaves her mouth to plant kisses along her jaw, prolonging the length of time each one presses into her skin as he moves slowly downward, past her neck and collarbone, and lower still. His hands slide up her back and along her sides, taking her shirt along with them as he raises it higher and higher abover her torso. Her own hands are tangled in his hair, and her nails scrape against his scalp as her fists tighten and loosen with each kiss he leaves.

He relishes in the feel of her surprisingly soft skin as he nears his destination, and he keeps his movements fluid as he goes along. He reaches his target a bit too soon in his hastiness – she knows what he's trying to do now - but with his burning curiosity and no intention to back down, he proceeds with his plans anyway. In the same moment she realizes what he's going to do, he does it – in one fluid motion, he slides his hands from her sides to her back and kisses the spot where his palm had been not a minute before, below her navel and just above the hem of her shorts.

The reaction is immediate – she arches her back and lets out a long, soft groan, fisting her hands tightly in his hair.

Pleasantly surprised by this, he does it again, pressing his lips more firmly into her skin. She essentially does the same thing, only this time her vocalization is louder and longer. He closes his eyes and savors the sound she makes; it's the sweetest, loveliest, most sensual sound he's ever heard. And _that's_ saying something, coming from him.

Satisfied with his experiment after a few seconds, he begins to pull away, but quickly finds that he can't - Katniss' legs suddenly wrap around him, preventing him from really going anywhere, and he jerks his head up to stare at her.

To say he was shocked was a little innaccurate.

He was inexplicably _dumbfounded._

To think that Katniss, the District 12 girl who couldn't kiss or show even the slightest bit of believable affection on camera if her life depended on it (which it did), was now lying before him, mewling like a kitten, was beyond disbelief. It was insane. Crazy. If he hadn't been there to witness it himself he wouldn't have believed it. But here she was, proving his deepest suspicions and wildest fantasies to be terribly wrong and terrifyingly right, in that order.

He continues to stare at her, and she at him, both shocked at her actions (though he can't tell who is more so, he suspects it to be her), and the only thing that breaks the heavy tension in the room is his sudden urge to laugh. His flabbergasted expression shifts into one of mirth, ultimately faltering into a full-on fit of soundless laughter.

Katniss' expression remains the same for the first few seconds, but quickly changes to one of irritation and embarrassment, as she cannot possibly place the source or reason of his humor.

"What's so funny?" She asks harshly, brows furrowing.

He answers as best he can through his giggles. "Nothing, it's just...who would have thought that cold, unfeeling Girl on Fire would be such a _lion_ in bed?! Hahaha!"

He shouldn't have said it – he was only proving to make her untrusting of him and close in on herself – but it simply couldn't be helped. She needed a reason, but apparently _that_ wasn't the right one. He tried his best to quell his laughter, successfully quieting down into a giddy chuckle, but this wasn't _nearly_ good enough for the Girl on Fire as her anger and embarrassment reached its breaking point. Her legs unwrapped from around his chest, and she angrily moved to get off the bed. He immediately misses the warmth, and he reaches out to pull her back under him as she's fixing her shirt, managing to do so with much difficulty.

"Wait, wait!" He pleads, laughter dying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't laugh...I promise!"

He pins her wrists down on either side of her head, and after much struggling, she stills beneath him, face red with fury as she lets out another bull-like puff of air. He begins to imagine steam coming out of her ears, but decides that that wouldn't be the best idea if he wanted to stop laughing.

"I'm sorry," he says again, smiling softly down at her. "I don't think you're cold or unfeeling. I just...that's what everyone else was saying. And after seeing your interviews with Peeta, well...I guess I just assumed you were..._less_ than affectionate."

She purses her lips and he almost expects her to spit at him, she's so angry, but she doesn't, and he's grateful. Instead, they stay like that, staring up at one another in silence, as the seconds tick by and the fake trees in the holographic window blow in the wind.

"...Wow," he says after a while. "I think we've just achieved a new level of intimacy."

She looks at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, according to a study I read about a while back," he explains. "If you stare into a person's eyes for four minutes, you connect on a deeper level."

She furrows her brows at him, clearly skeptical, but he nods to the clock resting at her bedside as if to prove his point. "It's been over five minutes now. So what do you think? Do you feel..." he leans closer, so close that he blocks nearly all of the light out from her vision, and whispers, "_Closer?_"

"Ugh, you're impossible!" She says, though there's no malice to her voice; only irritation.

He chuckles again, enjoying the countless ways he can get her to react just by pushing the right (or wrong) buttons, and it's this momentary lapse of judgement that does him in; his grip on her wrists unintentionally loosens, and she takes advantage of the opportunity to wriggle free from his hold and (miraculously) throw him off of her.

His nose smacks painfully against the headboard of the bed and she's on her feet by the time he's righted his position, and he can only watch as she rounds the mattress and heads determinedly for the bathroom. He knows she plans on using it for isolation rather than bodily functions, but he doesn't plan on giving her her solace, least of all in her own room.

He calls out to her moments before she reaches the door, stopping her in her tracks when he says, "Man, you've got some serious strength! I think I broke my nose!"

She pauses, and he's just barely able to notice the slight shaking of her fists before she whirls around on him, fixing him with the deadliest glare he's ever seen.

He loves it.

"_What_ on _earth_ makes you think that I would care about the state of your face?!" She yells, and though it isn't very loud, he can _feel_ the livid energy radiating off of her.

"Maybe because if I walk out of your room with a broken nose people will start to wonder about things?" He shoots back, grinning. When she says nothing in reply, he continues. "_'Oh my, Mr. Odair!_ What ever happened to your face?! ...What's that? You were in _Katniss_' room? Well gee, what ever could have been going on in there? Were you-'"

_"Alright,_ I _get_ it," she cuts him off, not bothering to apologize for her rude tone as she huffs angrily and strides over to him.

"Let me see," she orders, sitting on the edge of the bed as he crawls over to her.

She roughly grabs the underside of his face, fingers clamping around the sides of his jaw, and jerks him toward her to inspect the wound. A look flickers across her face, something akin to surprise or regret, or maybe both, but it's gone as quickly as it comes, and she pulls away to look him squarely in the eye.

"Well...it's bleeding," she says, her tone not unlike a mother whose child was consistently bothersome.

Pinching his eyebrows in confusion, he brings a hand up to his nose and touches the space below his nostrils, pulling it back to find that the tip of his middle finger is, indeed, covered in blood. It's not much, and it's certainly not enough to cry about, but it's there.

"Told you," he scoffs, smirking when she rolls her eyes dramatically.

"_Oh, no_," she drawls emotionlessly. "_How ever can I make it up to you, Mr. Odair?_"

"Lay with me," he says, taking her up on her unintentional offer.

She blinks, taken aback by his simplicity, and automatically answers, "W- wha..._no!_"

"Come on," he reasons. "It's really early. Breakfast won't be for another two hours. And I _know_ you're just as tired as I am, so let's sleep in. Besides, I'm cold. And I don't feel like walking all the way back to my room...unless you're in it, that is."

She scoffs, not having the energy to slap or reprimand him, but doesn't totally reject his idea, either. She already wants it, he realizes. He just has to convince her to go the rest of the way.

"Look, I won't do anything to annoy you. I promise. And, if I do, then...you can..._kick_ me around to your heart's content. How's that?"

Her eyes light up at this, and he can tell that she's taking it into serious consideration as she crosses her arms and bites her lip in contemplation. The seconds feel like eternities as he waits for her to answer, and he's vaguely aware that she _knows_ it's killing him, but does it nevertheless.

She drags it out for a few dreadfully long moments more, and it's only when he's ready to give up on her giving him a verbal reply that she turns to him and says, "Fine. But if you mess with me, annoy me, or go _bragging_ about this to your Capitol buddies, you'd best hope I don't get ahold of a bow when The Games come."

He doesn't even bother registering her very _real_ threat, as he's too happy and too smug to feel anything but pride and success at having won some small part of her over.

He happily moves over as his new bed partner schooches in beside him, and Katniss breathes out a heavy sigh as she moves to the other end of the mattress, probably annoyed at having submitted to his proposal in the first place. Normally, he would voice his opinion of their sleeping arrangements, but he knows that he's just barely getting by with his rather devious plan as it is, and so he's careful to keep his mouth shut. He _is__n't_, however, careful to keep his arm from draping over her side and pulling her closer than she'd like.

She tosses him a warning look, but does nothing in the way of removing his arm from her person as she turns her head away and settles atop the covers.

Feeling brazen, he takes it a step further and slips his other arm around the other side of her waist, effectively locking her in an embrace _hardly_ fitting of a relationship such as theirs. She stiffens, but relaxes when she realizes he isn't planning anything, and he can finally relax himself when her muscles loosen and her body goes limp in his arms. The stiff muscles in his neck are finally given reprieve when he lays his head down onto the pillow he and Katniss are sharing, and he moves his head forward to subtly bury his face in her mass of dark curls.

A sort of heavy, awkward tension descends upon them with each passing second of silence, and even though they're both comfortable, neither are relaxed enough for sleep and neither is willing to admit it.

He feels her sigh next to him, his left arm rising dramatically in its place on her side as she fills and empties her lungs, and he wonders what it's for.

Curious, he raises his head to peek over the top of her own, and it's then that the reason for her sigh becomes known to him.

It's the forest.

The hologram on the window.

It's truly something to behold: all vibrant colors and crisp clearness, right down to the humid air and singing birds. It's clearly fake, as the colors are too saturated and the picture is too detailed for the human eye to ever fully absorb in real life, but still, it's beautiful. And though it may have been little more than a fancy show of eye-candy to him, the woods splaying across the window screen were as close as the girl beside him could get to home.

"...The trees looks nice," he says after a while, feeling the need to break the strange and oddly awkward silence weighing down on them.

"Yeah..." She agrees. "They do."

The awkward spell is broken, and though neither admits it, they can breathe again.

They stay like that - he doesn't know for how long - and with nothing else to do now, Finnick thinks.

He thinks about the Capitol, about their gadgets and gizmos and countless other devices that can do things that wouldn't have been thought possible just decades ago, about avoxes and tributes and Victors, about the people he knows and the people he doesn't know, about where he'll be in the next few days, and about the lion of a girl lying next to him.

He doesn't know what will happen in The Games, and he doesn't want to make her a promise he can't keep, but he silently decides that he'll protect her, to keep her safe in the Quarter Quell, amidst all the trials and tribulations and blood and gore and hurt and loss and countless other things they're sure to encounter, no matter the cost. Because even though he's among the more seasoned veterans of The Games, and therefore has no business dealing with the Capitol's latest plaything, she still has a home and a family and people that love her that she needs to protect.

Besides, he thinks, it's too late for him.

She still has a chance.

And he plans to give it to her.

She deserves that much.

They lay together, side by side, and fall asleep to the false comforts of chirping birds and evergreen trees.

* * *

**A/N: So there you have it. I hope it was satisfactory, especially since I haven't updated in _forever _:P**

**If you'll notice, I've put 'On hiatus' in the summary of this story. I DO plan on getting back to this story, venturing through the rest of Catching Fire and stopping at Mockingjay, but I want to do it when I've actually got some fully written chapters to post. I know the whole 'hiatus' thing is pretty daunting, especially since there are so many writers out there that leave their stories on hiatus and then drop them completely, but please trust me when I say that I will NOT GIVE UP on this thing! I WILL finish it. I'm going to be busy this summer, so I plan on getting back to this in a couple months or so, if not then definitely by the end of this summer.**

**Again, I'm _super_ sorry I haven't updated this sooner, but please don't hesitate to leave a review and let me know what you think. I'd really appreciate it and I'll even pm you back :)**

**See you in a couple months (or by September)!**


	6. Pt I: Ashes to Dust

**A/N: 05/27/2015 Woo, I'm back! I gotta say, I'm really impressed with myself right now. I never thought I'd be able to type so much in such a short amount of time, let alone be able to get back to this story before the Summer officially started (it is still Spring, right?).**

**Anyway, I've decided to split this story into three parts: This chapter will be the last of Part I, the Quell arc will be Part II, and then I'm going to go into Mockingjay with Part III. That's right, people. We're going all the way here. ****I don't have the Mockingjay chapters written yet, and I don't have the film to go off of, but I'll do my research and whip up something awesome. So yeah, Part III will probably be another month or so.**

**Thank you VERY much to: loveshay199, Heslen, Nightshade Mirakuru, MoonPrincess623, and Guest for reviewing the last chapter! :D**

**Reading Time: 15 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter six: Ashes to Dust~

* * *

When Katniss wakes again later that morning, Finnick isn't there.

Though she can't say she's surprised, she _is_ just the slightest bit disappointed; she doesn't know why, exactly, but she is. Stretching her limbs and taking a deep breath, she sits up and glances over at the holograms of trees and forestry splaying across the wall in front of her, and then at the clock resting at her bedside table.

It's seven twenty-three.

Realization slaps her like an enraged Capitol woman with nine-inch acrylic nails, and she's leaping out of bed to dress herself before she can even form another complete thought. If she hurries, she can make it to breakfast and eat a decent meal before the interviews with Caesar. Before The Games.

She rushes to get ready although she doesn't want to, ignoring the slow-churning feeling of sickness swelling deep within her gut as she willingly flees the one place she feels safe in all the Capitol.

* * *

Breakfast comes and goes far too quickly for her liking, and before she knows it she's backstage with Cinna and her stylists and the other Victors preparing for Caesar's interviews.

Finnick wasn't present at the cafeteria, but she assumed he had already eaten before she came. Today _was_ a hectic one, after all – they would be going into the arena right after their interviews – so she gave it little thought that she hadn't seen him since waking up.

Her mind is an absolute mess; she can't seem to focus on any one thing for too long and everything is moving by at blazing speed. The feeling of butterflies swirling in her stomach had long ago turned to those of bats, twisting and writhing their way up her innards and through her throat to the point where she was ready to bolt for the bathroom at any given moment. She was going to puke. She was going to cry. She was going to run. She was going to hyperventillate. She was going to pass out...

Just as the reality of her situation begins to crash down on her, to overwhelm and overtake her, Cinna is at her side and guiding her along the cold tiled floors, speaking words and sentences that she can't really understand but appreciates nonetheless for their smooth flow and comforting sound.

"Here it is," he says, and she's jolted from her trance.

It was a dress.

A wedding dress.

_Her_ wedding dress.

Laid out all nice and fine on a mannequin that was no doubt molded after her figure.

And it was perfect.

"President Snow insisted you wear it," Cinna continued, gesturing to the dress. "But you don't have to if you don't want to. I'm not gonna force you."

She looks at the dress, at _her_ dress, and though she realizes it would make more of a statement _not_ to wear it, she can't bring herself to say no. She has no desire to get married, to bind herself to Peeta in a way that cannot be undone, even if only for show, but Cinna worked so tirelessly and so hard on it, and this may be her last chance to wear something so flawlessly beautiful.

She looks to Cinna, and smiles.

"Great," he says, smiling softly. "Let's get you set up."

* * *

It takes some effort, but Katniss is eventually able to fit into the dress without tearing any seams or breaking any of the intricately-laid sequins or wires with the help of Cinna and her stylists.

She stands on a pedestal in front of a series of mirrors on the wall in front of her so she can look herself over, and as Cinna works on the final touches she watches the reflection of Cashmere and Gloss' interview playing on the high-definition screen behind her.

She listens to Caesar's usual garbage, about how this is a 'momentous occasion' and that it's 'their last opportunity to express their thoughts and feelings', and the Capitol's last chance to express their 'love' and say goodbye to all but one. She watches, scoffing as she sees Cashmere's fake tears of sadness at having to say goodbye to her Capitol 'family'.

"God, does anybody actually _believe_ this?" She asks herself, though the question is meant for Cinna as well.

Haymitch, whom she hadn't known had been standing there, leans in close and points behind her. "Apparently _everybody _believes it_._"

Confused, she twists her neck to follow the direction of his finger and her gaze lands on Effie and some of her stylists, all of which are crying like newborn infants. She feels a bit guilty for implying that her friends and acquaintances were foolish, but doesn't take back her statement either as she turns back to stare at herself in the mirror – though it's very hard to keep focused on herself with the vivid colors and moving pictures of the television screen just beside her head.

"These Victors are angry, Katniss," Haymitch says beside her. "They'll do anything they can to try and stop The Games."

"Oh, no," Cinna says suddenly, freezing behind her.

"What?" She asks frantically, afraid that somehow she's destroyed the gorgeous work of art she's wearing just by _breathing._

"Nothing," he says quickly. "I just need a pin. The zipper's stuck."

She opens her mouth to say something, but he's already turning around and walking away. She watches him retreat in the reflection of the mirror, and she suddenly feels vulnerable and embarrassed standing in a priceless dress with the zipper hanging open and her bare back exposed. She turns her head to ask Haymitch to try and fix it, or at least cover her nakedness, but he's nowhere to be seen. Huffing irritably, she turns her head back to the mirror and rolls her eyes. Her mentor is never truly around when she needs him...

She stands there, staring at the ceiling and the walls and the floor, awkwardly trying to stay as still as humanly possible lest she mess up something else - though Cinna hadn't said it was her fault, she doubted he would ever say so to begin with.

She hears footsteps approaching a moment later, and she breathes in relief. She feels a tugging at the back of her dress, and as she lifts her head she expects to be greeted with Cinna's face; she's not. Her breath seizes in her throat and she freezes all over again, because it's not Cinna or Haymitch or Peeta or Effie's smirking face she's staring at in the mirror.

It's Finnick's.

"Hey, Fire Girl," he greets, staring at her reflection. "Fancy seeing you here."

His knuckle presses into the bare skin of her back and she jolts away from his touch, nearly falling over in the process before narrowly regaining her balance, which she's only able to do because of the finger he has hooked into her dress.

"What are you _doing_ here?!" She hisses, trying to keep her voice down to avoid a spectacle for the nearby stylists.

"Just wanted to see how my bed buddy was doing," he replies, smiling.

Her eyes widen to saucers, and if it weren't for the ridiculous amount of makeup she was wearing the heat rushing into her cheeks would be terribly noticeable. But it doesn't really seem to matter how many layers of gunk she has caked onto her face – Finnick already knows he's ruffled her feathers. She's about to ask him what on earth he thinks he's doing here messing with her when he has an interview to prepare for, but the next sentence that comes from his mouth shocks her into silence.

"So what's up with the half-done get-up? Complications?"

She stares at his reflection as he looks at the back of her very _open_ dress, jaw opening and closing like a broken elevator door as she weakly supplies, "It...it's broken."

She doesn't know why, but she's ashamed to admit even the most obvious of facts to him. Not that he notices – he's too busy inspecting the zipper resting just above her hips.

"Broken? Or stuck?"

She looks at the spotless floors as she corrects herself. "Stuck."

"Pfft. Well _I _can fix that."

She looks up at this, staring at him in the mirror with slightly furrowed brows; _if Cinna couldn't fix it, what made him think that _he_ could? _

Finnick sends her a wry smirk as she stares quizzically at him, before dropping out of her sight completely; _literally_.

He lowers himself into a squatting position behind her, and with her puffy, wide, flowing dress she can't see an inch of him. She feels a tugging at her lower back, and then something most peculiar; a light breeze bristles the hairs on her skin, creating a tingling sensation just above the zipper at her back. It's only when she feels a feather-light pressure against her bare flesh that she's able to pinpoint the cause – Finnick's nose is less than a centimeter away from her lower back, no doubt inhaling the Capitol perfume her stylists had marinated her in. Except he isn't inhaling; he's just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing and yet everything wrong at the same time.

She's about to tell him to get back onto his feet and get the hell away from her when he moves – he takes the zipper in his hand and slowly eases upwards, and any retorts she had prepared are frozen on her tongue.

His movements are slow and deliberate, and she feels an inexplicable shiver travel steadily up her back as his nose, lips, and chin graze her spine, skimming along the tiny hairs that stand on end as he passes over them. Her feelings of sickness and anxiety momentarily flood away for the pleasant sensations she feels at Finnick's touches, and she's vaguely aware of the bodice of her dress tightening around her torso and chest as the zipper is slowly pulled up.

He stops when his lips reach the nape of her neck, and she realizes that she's closed her eyes only after she has to open them again. The world around her is blurry, but once she's focused on the scene reflected in the mirror her stomach drops with dread.

She freezes, body going rigid and breath stopping short, as the reality of what she's just allowed to happen hits her like a freight train. She timidly looks over the reflection of her shoulder, afraid that Effie or one of her stylists or _Peeta_ has taken notice of she and Finnick's innappropriate closeness, but is relieved to find that any eyes present are fixed firmly on the screen hanging on the far wall behind her and _not_ on the spectacle of Finnick Odair 'helping' Katniss Everdeen with her zipper.

She takes a silent sigh of relief as she looks back at herself, but tenses up again when she remembers Finnick is still there. She waits, speechless as he hovers close behind her, and freezes when he suddenly looks up at her in the mirror, eyes twinkling with mischief.

He brings his face around to her ear, eyes never losing contact with hers, and whispers, "Play it safe, Fire Girl."

She's about to ask him what he means, but she doesn't get the chance to – he releases the zipper and places a kiss on the back of her neck that lasts just a moment too long to be labeled as chaste, and he fades from view of the mirrors, turning and walking away as though nothing had happened.

She turns to stare after him, watching as he disappears into the blinding lights of Caesar's elabroate stage for his interview.

She turns back to stare at herself once he's no longer in view, glad that the invisible fire trapped just beneath her makeup isn't noticeable on her face. Which is fortunate, because not a second later Cinna comes running up to her with a pin.

"Okay, I've got- hey, did you fix it?"

She's speechless for a moment, but is able to pull through with an explanation before he can turn the cogs in his brain. "Uh...yeah, someone fixed it for me."

He knows she's being deliberate in not saying 'who' exactly fixed it for her, but he decides not to question it as he moves to smooth her hair and fluff her dress. As he orbits around her person, she can't help but wonder how exactly Finnick had fixed the zipper. But then she realizes he's probably had plenty of experience with zippers, what with him being so popular among the female population, and that she has no reason to feel special.

She listens, trying her hardest not to look at the television screen in the mirror and failing, as Finnick speaks his final thoughts before going into The Quell.

She watches, taking note of every twitching muscle in his face as he relays a message to his 'love', saying that, if he dies, his last thought will be of her lips. She has no doubt that he's speaking of Annie and not her, but that doesn't stop her mind from wandering into silly fantasies and what-if scenarios that she has to crush before they go any further than uncontrollable, fluttering thoughts.

She's not sure why exactly he would bother approaching her when they've both received what they wanted from each other - other than to mess with her, that is – especially when The Games are just hours away.

She supposes it could have been a trap, a ploy to get her to lower her guard around him when they enter the arena, but even so, it fails to stop her from pursuing the matter further in her own mind. Even if it _was_ some kind of trick, she decides, it gives her the determination she needs to be careful and not fall prey to the charms of those who would seek to destroy her in the Quarter Quell.

She turns this way and that in the mirror when Cinna has finally finished his work, admiring the utter beauty of the dress he so painstakingly created for her, and smiles.

She goes to stand at the entrance of the center-stage where Caesar is no doubt standing just meters away, waiting for her, and Effie comes up to her to tell her she's beautiful. She tries not to take notice of the angry District 7 girl who had just minutes ago cursed the entire Capitol on live television, but Johanna Mason seems more intent on ruffling her feathers than she lets on, and within seconds she's engaging in a short conversation with the axe-weilding woman.

"A _wedding_ dress? Seriously?"

She doesn't know why, but she feels the need to justify her choice of clothing. "President Snow made me wear it."

She looks over at her when she says nothing in reply, and finds that Johanna is smirking devillishly at her.

The older woman speaks before she can, and her words effortlessly bring a smile to her own face as she says, "Make him _pay_ for it."

Katniss nods resolutely, intending to do just that, and turns back towards the extravagant double-doors that will open any second.

Caesar's muffled voice calls her name, and she steps out into the light as the sound of cheering floods her ears and overwhelms her senses, taking great conscious effort to ensure that she doesn't fall on her face in the elaborate dress Cinna had helped her into.

* * *

It's a simple thing, her interview – she engages in polite and funny banter with Caesar and he asks about her dress, to which she replies was to be her wedding dress for when she married Peeta, and then she spins and twirls and burns away her gown to reveal a mockingjay dress at his request, and she leaves to join the other Victors on the pedestal above the stage.

Yes, with the exception of her rebellious fashion statement, everything goes fine - it's _Peeta's_ interview that causes an uproar.

"So Peeta, tell me," Caesar begins. "You must be _very_ disappointed that a certain _ceremony_ didn't take place, am I right?"

Peeta opens his mouth to respond, but pauses in doing so as a sudden thought seems to come to him. "...Actually, Caesar," he says, turning towards the purple-haired man. "Katniss and I did get married. In secret."

Caesar, though slightly taken aback, doesn't lose his facade. "A 'secret' ceremony? Explain."

Though Katniss doesn't know what she would say to such a demand, she is impressed with Peeta's answer. "We wanted to make our love official before The Games, and with everything that's happening we knew we wouldn't be able to plan a big wedding."

Caesar is silent for a moment longer than is strictly normal for someone like him, and all he can really manage to say in reply is, "...I see."

She would have been proud of him had he left it at that, but Peeta doesn't seem to be finished yet, and he goes on to say, "Yeah, I just wish that things weren't moving so fast. I mean, I wouldn't have a problem going into The Games if it just weren't for...if...if it weren't..."

Curiosity has piqued the entire audience, the Victors and herself included, and Caesar leans in close as he asks, "If it weren't for what, Peeta?"

The young baker pauses, which she hopes is for effect and not because he can't think of anything to say, and replies, "...If it weren't for the baby."

The entire _room_ gasps, even herself, and Caesar's eyes widen to dinner plates as the crowd stands up in protest. Caesar immediately moves to calm them down, telling Peeta to go join her and the rest of the Victors, and as he nears she can see the small smile of smugness and pride on his lips.

She moves to hug him at the nearest opportunity, holding him close as she whispers, "Thank you."

Although she'd rather not have the whole world assume she's pregnant, she is both grateful and impressed that Peeta could come up with something so cunning to stop The Games. Though she doubts it will work in the end, she knows it has the desired effect as the audience is still in an uproar.

Peeta says nothing in reply to her thanks, but smiles wider all the same when they part. He guides her over to their designated places beside the others, and they all join hands in a final show of defiance against the Capitol. It's a simple act, nearly insignificant, but it makes her feel alive to know that even the smallest changes can bring about the biggest differences.

She holds her chin high, arms raised above her head as she clasps hands with the others, unaware of the sea-green eyes that fix themselves on her just before the lights go down.

* * *

**End Pt I.**

* * *

**A/N: So this is the end of Part One. I have to come up with clever names for Part Two (the Quell chapters) but other than that they're ready to go. I'll try and get the next one posted before this week ends, but no promises. Please let me know what you think and review! I'm not a review hog but I do love reading you guys' thoughts! :D**

**'Til next time!**


	7. Pt II: Clear to Mist

**A/N: 05/31/2015 I've noticed that whenever I give myself a time window for things I say I'll do (i.e, updating stories) I'm always going against what I say. For example, if I say I'll update a story in a week, I'll end up doing it in a month, whereas when I try to be realistic and give myself more time (like a month) I end up jumping right on it and getting it done. Weird, huh? Anyway, this is the first chapter of Part II, and will focus primarily on Katniss and Finnick's building relationship while in The Games.**

**Anabanana23: Well wait no more, cuz here it is! Thank you! :D**

**Guest****: Haha thanks for the encouragement! I shall never give up! Enjoy the new chapter!**

**loveshay199****: Why thank you! I'm glad you love it so much :) _Pwease_ enjoy the update, lol XD**

**Reading Time: 15 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

**Pt II.**

* * *

Chapter seven: Clear to Mist~

* * *

She almost kills Finnick when she sees him again.

She runs to the Cornucopia and grabs the bow that is just _waiting_ for her to wrap her fingers around it, and shoots an oncoming tribute in the foot, letting them lose their balance and fall into the waters below, when she sees someone else fast approaching her in her peripheral vision. Adrenaline kicking in, she immediately loads another arrow and aims at the next person brave enough to mess with her. She freezes, breath hitching as she inhales and exhales furiously, heart pumping vigorously as she recognizes who she has in her sights.

Finnick Odair freezes in his place, eyes wide as she stares him down.

Grinning slowly, he says, "Woah! Good thing we're allies, am I right?"

He raises his left hand and her eyes are distracted by a mild shimmer coming from his wrist, and she cautiously lowers her gaze until she's staring at a golden band wrapped snugly around his limb. But it's not just any golden band - it's _Haymitch's._

"Where did you get that?" She asks, though it's more of an accusation as she fixes her stare back onto him and tightens the hold on her bow.

"Where do you _think?_" He shoots back, cocky as ever.

She keeps her arrow trained on him, trying to decide within the next two seconds whether or not to just shoot him, when his stare suddenly moves beyond her and he says, "Duck."

She turns at his odd request, ducking just in time to avoid the male tribute trying to take her head off. She squats and covers her head, peeking above her arms when she hears a sharp sound and a pained cry, followed by a thud. The tribute lays there, just inches from her, with a trident lodged in his chest. Shocked, she sits there a few moments, long enough for Finnick to come around and take his weapon back and peek around the corner of the Cornucopia.

She shakily comes to stand, mind somewhat blank after having just nearly lost her life, when he says, "Don't trust One or Two. I've got this side, you hold them off. I'll find Peeta!"

It takes her a few seconds longer to process his words than it would under normal circumstances, and he's already off to the other side of the Cornucopia by the time she nods her understanding, but at least she's able to get back on her feet before anyone else decides to end her.

She hears Finnick's voice a moment later, calling to her. "Katniss! He's over here, Mags found him! Come quick!"

Recognizing the slight alarm in his voice, she breaks into a run and goes to join him and Mags, and it's only after she's at their side that she sees it - Peeta is drowning.

He's fighting with another Victor in the water beside his pedestal, though she supposes he's really just trying to keep from going under.

She wants to dive in and save him, but she doesn't know what help she would be. Finnick seems to be reading her mind, because he dives in himself a moment after she's just declared herself useless, and after a brief struggle with the other tribute, brings Peeta to the rocky shore. He drags the blond boy up onto the rocks, grabbing his trident and checking to see if Mags is okay, and Katniss kneels beside her District partner and rolls him onto his side, emptying any water from his lungs.

Peeta smiles at her appreciatively after regaining his breath, and though he's clearly shaken from nearly having his life taken away from him, she can find no time to coddle him as the Careers could be on them at any moment.

She heaves him to his feet and they head for the jungle, Finnick and Mags following close behind.

* * *

They walk for some time, trudging through the tall plants and countless trees, and though she has no trouble making no noise she can't say the same for the others.

It's a bit irritating – Finnick walks with Mags on his back as though she's a potato sack and Peeta moves with all the grace of a rhino – but she realizes that Finnick has another person to care for and Peeta has no experience with hunting or keeping quiet in the woods, so she begrudgingly keeps her mouth shut.

It's extremely hot now, and coupled with the humidity it's nearly unbearable, but no one says anything to complain as they all know they're lucky to be alive in the first place, so weather is of little concern. Sweat rolls down the back of her neck in long, trailing droplets, and she wishes she could cut her braid off. Though the trees provide plenty of shade, they do little to help their overheated and dehydrated bodies. Her hands itch for the machete she'd grabbed at the Cornucopia.

"Hey, hold up!" Finnick calls behind them. "Mags needs to rest."

She says nothing in protest as she and Peeta stop to wait for Mags and Finnick, and they all sit down on the jungle floor to try and regroup.

"God, it's hot..." Peeta comments, his voice a throaty rasp. "We gotta find fresh water."

She can't help but agree; after all, even if they do survive the tributes, there's no way they'll last more than a day without something to keep them going. But it's also unlikely that they'll find any fresh water, what with the layout of the arena and the coldhearted Gamemakers. Still, she can't find it in herself to bring up this fact as she knows it will only discourage them further than they already are. Cannons begin to go off, one after the other, the faint yet loud 'pooms' jolting her to the core with each burst of sound.

"Well," Finnick says, grinning at nothing in particular. "I guess they're not holding hands anymore, huh?"

He starts to chuckle, and suddenly she's lost all respect for him regarding their current situation. "You think it's _funny?_"

He looks at her then, grin still in place but slowly fading, and says, "Every time one of those cannons go off? It's music to my ears. I don't care about _anyone_ here."

And finally his grin does fade, falling completely off his face when he sees her expression and realizes the full effect of what he's just said.

Her eyes widen just a fraction and her lips let out a small, silent gasp, but it is obvious to anyone who sees that she's hurt. She blinks rapidly and looks away, swallowing as she tries to cover her blunder, but it's too late. He's seen, and he knows.

She supposes it really was foolish, thinking that there was anything more to their shared time together than a brief experience of touch and feeling, if even only a mutual understanding of one another, but it still smacks her in the face all the same. She's not about to cry – after all, it wasn't like they were in love or anything – but she does feel incredibly sobered up compared to how she was just a few minutes ago.

Finnick is strangely silent, and though she's only seeing him from her peripherals, she thinks that maybe he's trying to say something, to apologize. But of course, that can't be the case. Because he is Finnick Odair, and she is Katniss Everdeen.

They are from two completely different worlds, separated by classes and classes of red and blue and white collars and every other color there is, and she could never hope to ever mean something to someone so lenient with their time and who they spend it with. She is not the first of many, but among the countless, _numberless_ women he's charmed and left. And though she is nothing like the refined and highly dignified Captiol woman with whom he's used to dealing with, she is smart enough to know that, deep down, she was nothing more than an interesting fling, and she has no true reason to feel special.

A heavy silence has descended upon the group, and with no one else willing she decides to take it upon herself to lighten it and get things moving again.

She inclines her face towards Finnick, though she keeps her expression stone-cold and her eyes focused on the ground as she replies tightly, "Good to hear it."

She stands then, hefting her bow onto her shoulder, and Finnick stands not a moment after she does, but before he can even _think_ to say anything she says, "We need to keep moving. We don't know who's left. We'll find a vantage point and look for water the first chance we get."

She looks at Peeta as she says this, but she can _feel_ Finnick's intense stare on her, and she avoids his gaze in favor of the ground as she moves past him, shoving roughly at his shoulder as she does so, and the others slowly follow suit. If she had seen the expression on his face maybe she would have felt guilty, but she has no desire to feel anything of the sort towards the likes of _him_. No, she holds no sorrow or remorse for what she's done, shutting him off and pushing him out of her heart completely.

He's already made it perfectly clear what he thinks of her.

And a Capitol heartthrob and a District 12 rat were never meant to mix.

* * *

They trudge through the jungle for what seems like two or three hours, though she knows by the sweltering heat and the position of the sun that it hasn't been more than one.

She and Peeta use their machetes to hack at the waist-high bushes and shrubberies that stand in their way, and she is thankful that she decided to head for the Cornucopia instead of running away to safety, otherwise their time spent here would surely have been doubled with all of the plants in the way of their path.

She walks ahead of the others, taking the lead, and she feels the tiniest bit better as she brutally cuts away at the thick, stalky weeds that stand helplessly in her way. Finnick hasn't spoken to her since they'd first stopped to get some rest, but she can't say she's disappointed at this. If anything, she's glad, thankful for the lack of sound coming from his Capitol-perfect vocal chords.

She chops at another tall weed, swinging her machete with more force than necessary, and just as she thinks she'll have no more problems with her unwanted 'ally', he comes up beside her and tries to keep up with her pace.

She looks over at Finnick, trying to hide the confusion on her face when she notices there's nothing on his back and a machete in his hand, to which he explains, "I gave Mags to Peeta. Figured he could use a break hacking down weeds."

He briefly looks back to point behind them, and she swiftly follows his finger to where Peeta is carrying Mags some distance behind them, but ultimately plays it off like she couldn't care less and goes right back to killing plant life with her sword.

It's silent between them for a few long, tense seconds, and she _knows_ he can tell by her pissed-off expression and unwillingness to engage in conversation that she doesn't want to talk, but he seems to deem this unimportant as he joins her in mutilating innocent stalks and leaves and chuckles, "You know, you might wanna slow down a bit. You'll wear yourself out for when the real fighting comes."

It's his attempt at light conversation, and she's intent on letting it fail miserably. Finnick, however, being who he is, isn't one to give up after just one failure; he speaks again a few moments later, trying once more to lighten the mood.

"You know, if you keep hacking at those things like that you're gonna tear your arm out of socket. Lemme guess; bad experience with poison ivy as a kid?"

She wants to leave him hanging, to let him dangle and dangle until he finally falls from that high pedestal of self-titled worth he's put himself onto, but there's something in the tone of his voice that she just can't stand. She abruptly stops in her task of path-clearing, causing his arm to brush roughly against her shoulder, and gives him what she hopes is the hardest stare he's ever received in his life.

"Don't _assume_ that just because we've spent a few hours together that we're _friends_, okay?"

She sees the surprised expression on his face, and now that she's got herself going, she can't stop herself from making him feel even lower than low.

"I didn't come this far just to be dragged down by some good-for-nothing Capitol _plaything._ I know you probably feel like you have to try and 'connect' with me because we're allies, but I'm telling you right now; _don't._ You're a Tribute, a Victor, an _enemy._ _Not_ my friend."

He stands beside her, speechless, but before he can think to say anything, Peeta and Mags finally catch up with them.

"Hey, Finnick, can you take Mags back now?" Peeta asks, slightly out of breath.

Finnick doesn't acknowledge him immediately, continuing to stare in disbelief at Katniss, but wordlessly nods his compliance and hands Peeta back his machete, hefting Mags back onto his back and falling behind so they can take the lead.

Katniss lets Peeta go ahead this time, letting her rage cool down to a simmer for his and Mags' sake, and though she's burning up underneath her Quell uniform, she's too stubborn to move her hand to brush back the scratchy, heatball-of-a-braid above her neck to give her some leniency.

And though she is somewhat relieved from telling Finnick off, her anger is still hotter than the artificial sun beating over her head.

* * *

They walk another thirty minutes or so into the jungle, though with the tense and unspoken 'no talk' rule it feels more like an hour, and she wonders just how big this arena is and how far they'll be allowed to go before they have to turn around.

She is able to lose herself in less fury-inducing thoughts, thinking of Haymitch and Effie and Gale and Prim and her mother, of how much she'll miss them when Peeta is the one coming home and not her. She almost regrets it, but she knows that Gale will take care of her family and Haymitch and Effie will live on, and Peeta will find someone far more deserving of his devotion than her. His innocence startles her sometimes, with his naivety and obliviousness to the cruelty and hardships of the real world, but then she thinks of how she knows too much to ever be truly happy, and that he deserves a chance to go out and experience life – something he could never do with her in the way. Haymitch had better keep his promise.

She half-heartedly slices through the thick stalk of a weed, out of the steam her anger had provided earlier, and looks at Peeta. She smiles, watching him with an admirable fondness as he travels on a ways ahead of them. She begins to move to catch up with him, when something catches her eye. About twenty yards off, she notices a dull shimmer, an outline, of a semi-invisible shape, like a floating octogon. As she moves sideways, she sees more of them, connected in an endless pattern, and she realizes they've reached the forcefield, the edge of the arena.

And Peeta's heading straight for it.

He hacks mindlessly with his machete, oblivious to the invisible wall just meters in front of him, and she knows with a frightening clarity that she won't be able to reach him in time to stop him.

She watches, helplessly frozen as he moves closer and closer towards the electric fence, and screams, "PEETA, NO!"

But it's too late.

Peeta has already swung his sword into the air, and before he can even register her alarm the metal blade is making contact with the electric forcefield and he's sent flying back towards them, his body hitting the jungle floor with a thud that thunders in her ears.

Katniss drops her machete and runs as fast as she can, stomach plummeting to her feet as her heart freezes in her chest and tries to jump out through her throat.

She kneels beside him, freezing with fear and dread when the heart beneath her palm has no beat. Her throat seizes up and tears sting her eyes in an instant, and a moment later Finnick's there, shoving her out of the way. Panic grips her in a death-hold, and she whirls around with her bow, ready to shoot him at a moment's notice, when she sees that he is giving Peeta CPR. She freezes, breathing heavily as she absorbs the fact that he is trying to save the blond's life rather than take it, and lowers her arrow to crawl over to him, tossing her weapon to the ground as she takes in his burnt skin and singed hair, heartbreakingly noticing that his entire body is smoking from the jolt of the forcefield. She waits with bated breath for Finnick to bring him back to consciousness.

The thirty-two seconds it takes to revive Peeta are the longest she's ever experienced in her life, and she hopes to never experience anything longer.

Finnick leans back to rest and she hovers over her star-crossed lover with bleary eyes and unquellable happiness.

She strokes Peeta's face as his eyes slowly open, and in his confused stupor he softly says, "Be careful, guys...there's a forcefield up there..."

She laughs, causing an onslought of tears to burst from her ducts, and says, "I thought you were _dead!_ Your heart stopped beating..."

She's blubbering like a baby and she knows it, but she can't bring herself to care as this is one of the luckiest moments of her life. To think that he could've died, that he wouldn't have been able to have the life she wanted for him...

"It's okay," Peeta breathes, taking her hand and placing it over his heart. "It's working now..."

She cries a bit more, a new wave of tears overflowing from her eyes and cascading down her cheeks in a way that she knows is hardly flattering, but she leans down to kiss him in her happiness all the same, far too overjoyed to let something like her awful face get in the way of this miraculous moment.

Swallowing down the painful lump in her throat, she wipes her eyes and stutters, "Do...do you wanna try and stand up?"

Peeta closes his eyes, breathing for a bit, and she thinks he's starting to fade away again when he says, "Yeah...yeah, I think I do..."

She moves to help him stand, sniffling and smiling at the same time, and the moment he's on his feet she wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him so tightly she might cut off his air supply from the sheer force of her relief.

"It's okay," Peeta says, slowly stroking her hair. "It's okay..."

She laughs, a strangled cry to everyone else's ears, and though her eyes are wide open, she doesn't catch the solemn look on Finnick's face as he watches their embrace with stony eyes and a clenched jaw.

* * *

**A/N: I'm pretty much going to skim through The Quell a bit, just focusing on the main points, as I'm sure you all don't want to practically read the _entire book/movie_ all over again (I know I don't). I don't want to give away any spoilers, but there _will_ be much more drama concerning Peeta, as he is pretty much the driving wedge between Katniss and Finnick. Don't worry though, despite some of the Peetniss this will be Finniss all the way :)**

**Tell me your thoughts! Leave a review!**

**'Til next time!**


	8. Pt II: Mist to Rain

**A/N: 06/08/2015 ****Okay, I've finally figured out why all my reading times are so inaccurate; it's because I'm basically a retard. I took a speed reading test online and I read at 174 words per minute. The average person reads 300. Ugh. Just _ugh._ Anyway, I've calculated how long it should take for the AVERAGE person to read this chapter, rather than timing it myself (since that's _obviously_ not going to work) so please, PLEASE read through it yourself and see how long it takes! And TELL ME IF IT'S ACCURATE. SERIOUSLY. I AM DYING OVER HERE.**

**Nightshade Mirakuru: Thanks! Hope you like this update just as much as the last two :D**

**Andrea250: Updating! And yes, Finniss for life! :D**

**Anabanana23: Thank you for you review! :)**

**loveshay199: I know. Katniss is _so_ stubborn. Like, what's wrong with her? She needs to quit that. Anyway thanks for your review, and enjoy the chapter! :)**

**Reading time: 15 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter eight: Mist to Rain~

* * *

They spend the next few hours skimming along the perimeter of the arena, tossing rocks into the electric wall to make sure they're going the right way, and eventually they come across a tree that is thick and sturdy enough to climb.

Katniss is the one to go up, hesitant to leave Peeta and Mags but happy to leave Finnick as she makes her way to the top of the tree, careful to keep a steady pace and firm grip on the branches as she moves along. The overhead view of the arena was truly something to behold. She could see the entire thing from right there, from the endless jungle to the boundless sky above her head. It would have been breathtaking, had it not been for the simple fact that it was nothing more than a Capitol creation, a tool for bringing people like herself to their dooms. She takes an arrow from her quiver and shoots it into the sky, curious to see how far it will go, and is surprised to find that the forcefield they've been following along doesn't just go past their heads, but _over_ them as well.

With nothing else to see or do, she climbs back down, keeping her eyes fixed on Peeta and Mags as she shares her findings.

"The forcefield is a dome, there's no way out...and I wasn't able to find any signs of fresh water."

She leans back against the tree she's just climbed down from, letting her words of disappointment sink into the minds and hearts of the others, when Finnick decides to speak up.

"It's gonna get dark soon," he says, and though she looks up at him in surprise, he keeps his eyes focused on the ground. "We should set up a perimeter, make camp. We can take turns sleeping. I'll take first watch."

She scoffs at him, and he finally looks at her, eyes guarded as she shoots him down. "I don't think so. If anyone's going to be taking first watch, or _any_ watch for that matter, _it's me_."

This seems to spark something inside him, because a moment after she's said it his eyes flare with defiance and his mouth twists into a humorless smirk.

"Oh, Honey; that thing I did for Peeta back there?" He points back to the trail behind them, and her mouth turns downwards in a scowl. "That was called saving his _life._ You're so sure that I want to kill you?_ Think again_. If that's what I wanted, I would've _done_ it by now."

His smile drops to a scowl of his own, and he angrily marches off into the jungle ahead of them, leaving her and the others to stare after him as he goes. She glares at his back, not about to let his words get to her and weasel their way into her heart, and silently hopes he smashes into a forcefield.

She turns back to Peeta and Mags, heaving a sigh as she wipes the small particles of tree bark off her hands. "Okay. Why don't you guys get some rest? I'll take first watch tonight."

Mags nods and goes after Finnick, and Peeta gives her a small smile.

"Okay," he says. "But only for a little bit."

* * *

Finnick quietly sighs to himself, trying to keep watch while simultaneously ignoring the fuming girl beside him.

They set up camp for the night as he'd suggested, and now only he and Katniss remained fully awake out of the four of them, Peeta and Mags resting in the tall weeds about twenty meters away.

It doesn't come very difficultly for Katniss to pretend he isn't there; in fact, she acts as though he's nothing higher than the dirt she's seated herself upon, and he has to say that, although it's hardly polite of her to do so, he's impressed. She's annoyed at him for staying up with her, he knows, because that might mean she has to _talk_ to him, and she doesn't want that. No, she'd much rather stew in her own negativity and let it build until she snaps; _anything_ if it meant beating him at his own game. He doesn't particularly want to talk to her either at the moment, but he knows it's necessary if they ever hope to make it through The Games without tearing each other's heads off.

They sit there for a long time, resting their backs against a large, cool rock, thankful for the cold stone seeping through their uniforms and into their skin. He's not sure how late it is, but it feels like he's been trying for hours to come up with something to say. The artificial moon looms above them, providing just enough light through the canopy of trees to see what lies in front of them, but not enough to make out anything too detailed.

Finnick idly picks at the grass beside him, pulling and stroking and pulling some more, afraid to do anything more than _breathe_ lest the braided girl beside him decided to just up and leave – this is the closest she's willingly been to him since he'd opened his dumb mouth after escaping the Bloodbath, and he'd rather savor their closeness in silence than screw it up further by talking.

Of course, that was how he felt a few minutes ago.

_Now,_ he can't take the quiet as long as he wants to be able to, and eventually it all becomes too much and his frustration comes to a head. He's opening his mouth before he can stop himself, hoping that the first sentence to come tumbling out doesn't completely ruin things between them.

"...So how's Peeta?"

He has to say, he's rather impressed with himself. He knows that she doesn't want to hear him talk, _least_ of all to her, but Peeta always seems to be a safe topic.

And, just like he suspects, he's right.

Katniss exhales beside him, looking out into the dark jungle ahead, and though it takes her a while, she replies, "He's...fine. I think. Just_...dehydrated."_

She starts her answer with a surprised softness, but finishes with a begrudging coldness.

And that makes him angry.

Music starts to play in the sky overhead, and they can see clearly the pictures of the dead Tributes as they fade in and out, seeming to go on forever before they stop.

Unable to help himself, he looks at the blade of grass between his fingers and snarkily replies, "Well _that's_ nothing new. We've been dehydrated since we got out of the Bloodbath. But of course when we _do_ find water, you'll have to be the first to get it. Gotta keep healthy for the 'baby'."

He says the last sentence like it's a vile poison in his mouth, and he even feels the urge to spit as it tastes so bitter on his tongue. He doesn't want to admit it, but it's something that's been irking him ever since their interviews with Caesar. Like a thorn or giant splinter, it's been bugging him on and off all throughout the day, nagging on his mind until it was nearly all he could think about. And with the way Katniss has been treating him lately, he feels no remorse or regret for his words.

She says nothing in retort, and he knows she desperately wants to, but he also knows that she's not stupid, and therefore would never say anything to give the Capitol reason to believe Peeta's words were false, endangering all of them in the process.

But he wants her to.

He _wants_ her to say that it isn't true, that he has no idea what he's talking about, if only to give himself peace of mind.

He was so sure of himself before The Games, _so sure_ that she hadn't felt anything resembling even a sliver of love for the boy, but that was before he saw the look on her face when he told Caesar that she was pregnant. And then when he hit the forcefield, the way she'd run to his side and cried rivers and rivers of tears...

"You know, maybe _I_ should run into a forcefield," he says after a while, tone full of contempt as he yanks at the grass. "If I'd get to be kissed like _that_."

It doesn't take her long to bite back a reply. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I think you know what it means," he shoots back, turning his head to look challengingly at her.

She glares at him with the heat of a thousand suns, and he can't find it in himself to hate it; he takes the opportunity to drink in every bit of attention she's freely giving him like it's the tall glass of cold water he's been wanting so badly.

"Well if you didn't want him to live, you should have let him _die,_" she spits, pursing her lips.

"You wanna know _why_ I saved Peeta?" He asks, leaning closer. "Ask yourself this; do you really think I _cared_ whether he lived or died? I didn't do that for me. I did it for _you_."

She widens her eyes at him as though he's just cursed her very name, though she doesn't shrink away from him either as he looks her squarely in the eye. "...What?"

"_You heard me_," he says tightly.

She gets up from her place beside him, apparently fed up with his attitude, and he follows, none too keen on letting her off so easily after the mental Hell she's put him through.

"Do you honestly think I would have bothered to help him if you hadn't been there?" He asks, failing to keep his voice as low as he would like. "Do you think I wouldn't have taken Mags and run? That I wouldn't have taken what I could from him and left him to sizzle and rot like a _worm_ on the sidewa-"

She whirls around and slaps him, the force of which leaves his cheek with a stinging heartbeat and (probably) her wrist with a sprain, and he stumbles back a couple of steps before turning to stare back at her, shocked.

She heaves with fury, nostrils flaring and shoulders rising and falling with each livid breath, and he can tell that she's not in the least bit sorry for what she's done.

Which is good; because he isn't sorry for what _he_ does either.

Taking a few long strides forward, he takes her face between his hands and crushes her mouth to his, taking advantage of her shock and backing her into a nearby tree.

She rails against him, pushing and shoving and angling her face away, but he only holds on tighter as he presses his lips more firmly against hers, intent on getting rid of the mounting frustration he's been stuck to deal with for the past thirteen hours. He grabs her wrists and pins them above her head, halting her efforts to hit him as he bites none too gently on her bottom lip, when she suddenly kicks him in the shin, succeeding in pushing him away. He breathes heavily as he stares at her, taking his time in catching his breath as he admires the flush in her cheeks, barely visible in the moonlight.

He moves forward to touch her, but she backs away, wiping her mouth as she whispers in a shaky voice. "_Don't_..." He opens his mouth to counter her but she cuts him off, finishing her sentence with absolute fury. "EVER, touch me again."

He blinks, taken aback, but he is suddenly thrown back into reality as he reminds himself that there are cameras everywhere, and that the entire _world_ has seen what he's just done. He doesn't particularly care – he never really expected to make it out of The Games in the first place – but he knows that for someone like Katniss Everdeen, image is everything. Snow has seen. Her _District_ has seen. He might as well have killed her sister right before her eyes.

Although speechless, he still feels the need to say something to calm her down; though he doesn't regret their kiss, he does regret humiliating her on national television and making her feel like dirt.

He stutters out an apology, even though he doesn't mean it for the same reasons she wants him to. "...I'm...I'm sorry-"

She shakes her head and cuts through the air with her hand, silencing him. "Stop. Just _stop_ it. _Stop_ saying you care about me, stop saying I don't love Peeta, and _stop_ following after me like some kind of lost mutt! Just _face_ the fact that Peeta has something you could never _hope_ to have even if you tried, accept that he's more deserving of it than you, and _leave me alone!_"

She spits her words with all the venom she can muster, and he'd be lying if he said he weren't affected by them. He can't see her face very clearly in the darkness, but he likes to think that he sees tears glistening in her eyes. He realizes that this assumption is a long shot, but he'll take anything he can get to lessen the blow he's taken at her hateful words.

They stand there in the moonlight, both adopting stances like that of hurt animals as they keep their distance from each other, neither able to avert their eyes or move from their rooted spots on the jungle floor. Their only savior is the crunching sound of footsteps approaching them, and they both turn their heads in relief toward Peeta.

"Hey guys!" He whispers excitedly, grinning. "Haymitch sent us a spile! Come on, me and Mags have already had our share!"

Finnick stares confusedly at him while Katniss looks overjoyed, and she quickly forgets about their spat as she breaks into a tired run and follows Peeta through the jungle, boots crunching the plants below their feet in a thunderous drone. Finnick stands there a moment, looking forlornly at their figures as they fade into silhouettes in the distance, and slowly breaks into a run himself to catch up with them.

Whatever it was, it had better be amazing.

* * *

As it turns out, a 'spile' is a small device used for getting water out of trees, or so Finnick has come to learn.

They take leaves from nearby plants and use them as makeshift cups, greedily letting the crisp, weed-flavored water cool their dry, scratchy throats. They drink for what seems like forever, getting drunk on nothing but the life-giving qualities of water and giggling with mirth as they raise their invisible glasses to Haymitch Abernathy for looking out for them.

With their stomachs full and their thirsts quenched, it isn't hard for Peeta and Mags to fall asleep and drift into dreams of better places. It _is_, however, hard for Finnick and Katniss to stay awake and keep watch.

He still insists on staying up with her, even though he knows she can probably do a better job of it than him and she's made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing to do with his dirty, filthy self, not because he wants to annoy her but because he still feels the need to make things right. If he's going to die here, he wants there to be nothing but clarity between them. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem that tonight will be the night for that.

Cannons begin going off, one after the other, and they come so fast and so sudden that he's unable to keep count. He hopes that it will keep going off until all of their competition is dead, but he knows this is wishful thinking. After a while they die down, and he and Katniss sit there listening for more, relaxing their ears when they don't come.

"I counted twelve," she says quietly, piquing his interest.

"...For midnight?" He asks, racking his brain.

"Or the number of Districts," she says. "I don't know."

Things are still incredibly tense between them, he can _feel_ it, but at least she's willing to talk to him like a civil human being. A bright light floods through the foliage and into their small campsite, and they both look through a break in the trees at the source; lightning hits on the other side of the arena, striking a large, colossal tree that could never be found in true nature, over and over until it seems as though it will never stop.

They stare at it in silent awe and discomfort, not bothering to count the number of strikes as they're so numerous it's impossible to tell. Gradually, it stops, and the light playing across their faces fades back to the darkness they've grown accustomed to, bathing their surroundings in midnight blue.

Not a minute after the lightning quits, a feeling of incredibly strong drowsiness washes over him like a tide, and he finds himself almost nodding off then and there. He turns to look at Katniss, seeing her sitting a few feet away, seemingly wide awake, and he decides to finally give his efforts of reconciling a rest.

Lids growing heavy, he sleepily says, "I'm tired...and if you're not gonna sleep, then I will."

She says nothing in reply, drawing her knees up to her chest and staring out at the large tree in the distance, and it's all he can do to keep from yawning as he rolls over onto his side and makes himself as comfortable as possible in the dirt and grass. He knows he shouldn't try to stay awake, as he knows it will do him no good in the morning, but he is reluctant to let sleep overtake him.

Wearily, he drifts to sleep, his last conscious thoughts centering around Katniss, Mags, and Peeta.

He hopes his nightmares don't wake the others.

* * *

Finnick awakens to the sound of Katniss screaming.

Her voice is muffled at first, but as his eyes focus and her frantic body language comes into view, the message is clear; _run._ And he does – they all do. He wakes Mags and heaves her onto his back, running as fast as his tired legs will allow as he and the others bob and weave through the trees, trying not to fumble in the dark. A poisonous fog is enveloping the jungle, spreading at an alarming rate.

He hears Katniss scream in agony behind him, and he turns abruptly to see if she's okay, running again when Peeta stops to help her up. They quite literally run for their lives, pushing the limits of their cramped muscles as they fly through the darkness, but it isn't enough; Peeta is caught in the fog and Finnick falls behind as well, their agonized screams piercing the night air. Katniss is able to help Peeta up but he falls again a few moments later, and by the time Finnick's caught up with them he can tell that he's in no shape to move.

Katniss looks up at him with a terrified expression, eyes shimmering with tears as she cries, "I can't carry him."

He looks at her sympathetically, her cracking voice tearing him in two as he tries to ignore the fast-approaching fog and think of a way around the problem. As he does this, Mags shifts around on his back until he lets her down, and he turns around to see what she wants.

She smiles at him softly, and as she places a hand on his shoulder his heart gives off a powerful beat, stilling into nothingness as it slowly dawns on him what she's planning to do.

"...Mags?" He asks warily, hoping he won't have to endure what he knows is coming.

Mags says nothing, just smiles and kisses him goodbye, and before he can stop her she's walking into the fog.

"Mags?!" He calls, voice rising into panic. "Mags?! MAGS!"

He moves to go after her, but Katniss grabs his arm and forces him to stay. "Finnick! _Finnick!_" She yells, pulling him back to reality. "Finnick, we _have_ to go. We have to get out of here!"

He looks back at her, pained eyes meeting hers, but says nothing. She stares at him, and though she doesn't say anything either he knows by the sadness in her eyes that she feels for him, and it's more than he can ask for given the current moment.

"...We have to go," she says again, strengthening her crumbling voice as she squeezes his arm.

He has to focus on her words in order to understand, but he gets it; the still-burning fire in her eyes tells him that he needs to move, and he needs to move now.

The fog is approaching fast, but he is able to lift Peeta across his shoulders and break into a run, ignoring the tightening cramps in the muscles of his legs as Katniss moves beside him. They don't look back – they know if they do it'll only slow them down – but they can feel the fog biting at their ankles and feet, burning the skin beneath their uniforms. He trips on a tree root after about a hundred yards, and Katniss soon joins him. Peeta flies from his shoulders as they fall down a ravine, tumbling further and further down until they roll to a violent stop at the bottom, muscles and bones aching with wear.

Finnick moves to get up but finds that he can't, and by the sounds Katniss makes he guesses that she can't either, and he realizes they're screwed. The fog is still coming, rolling down the ravine at the rate of a waterfall, and he brokenly thinks that this is it. The fog will come, and they will die, and Mags will have sacrificed herself for nothing.

Tears sting at his eyes, but they're not from sadness; they're from frustration. Frustration at not having been able to accomplish all that he'd said he would do. He'd said he would protect Katniss. He'd said he'd defend Mags. He'd said he would do all he could to get them out of there, no matter the cost.

The fog is inches away now, and he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to envision Annie's lips, like he'd promised he would, becoming frustrated once again when he can't picture anything but brown hair and French braids. He tries to focus again, but the pain from the poisonous blisters on his skin becomes too great, and all he can do is lay there in agony.

He waits, lying face up on the jungle floor, waiting, _praying_ for the fog to come and finish him off...

But it doesn't come.

The fog isn't getting to him, and he opens his eyes just in time to see it pool up against an invisible wall just inches away from where they're sprawled out on the ground, preventing the gaseous substance from harming them any further.

He closes his eyes and focuses on breathing, which has become more of a chore than he remembers it to be, when Katniss yells to them.

"_The water!_" She rasps, voice breaking with the pain of her blisters. "The water helps!"

He hears the sound of splashing a moment later, and then screams as she and Peeta crawl their way into the pond that he can't bring himself to look up and see, and before he knows it he's being dragged by his arms into the stuff, an agonized scream tearing from his own throat as the blisters littering his skin slowly ebb away.

He closes his eyes and sighs in relief, relishing in the foreign feeling of painlessness he's taken for granted in the past as he floats in the water.

* * *

After relieving themselves of the poison, they stay near the water and regroup, Peeta hanging out just outside the pond as he tries to get more water from the spile Haymitch sent, and Katniss tending to her bow while Finnick sat by himself at the other side of the pond.

He hears the sound of feet wafting through the water, and he's joined by Katniss sitting beside him a moment later, sharpening one of her arrows on a rock as she stays quietly at his side. She says nothing, and he in turn has nothing to say, his own silence brought about by the adrenaline wearing off and the aftershock of what had happened striking him with a forceful backhand. For the longest while the only sounds are those of Katniss repeatedly scraping the tip of her arrow against the rock in her hand, and when she does speak it takes a good five to ten seconds for him to process that she even spoke at all.

"I'm sorry about Mags," she says, voice gentle. "I know it must be hard for you."

He's silent, staring ahead into the space beyond him as he offhandedly replies, "She was never gonna make it anyway."

The grating sound of metal against rock ceases, and he knows idly that he's made her angry. She angles herself towards him, getting up to sit right in front of him when he doesn't acknowledge her, and looks at him with a fire in her eyes so bright he has to blink to make sure they're not glowing.

"_Stop_ _saying that_," she orders, forcing him to look at her.

She stares at him long and hard, trying to _will_ him to not feel sorry for himself, and the more she does it the more he feels drawn to the idea. Her eyes seem like a glowing fire to him, slow and steady, like a hearth, with the promise of warmth and protection for those fortunate enough to be able to reach it. And he _wants_ to reach it, wants to be worthy enough to steal that light and take it all for himself, because Mags is gone and the pain is just too unbearable.

He's leaning forward before either of them know what he's doing, and the moment his lips touch hers is pure bliss. It only lasts a second, but it's a second of warmth and safety, of being whisked away to another time when Mags was alive and times were better and he was _happy. _Katniss places a hand on his chest and gently pushes him away, though she doesn't shove him like he's some form of vile vermin, and he's grateful.

"No," she says firmly, looking at her hand that's still on his chest.

He knows what she means; she doesn't want to be a painkiller or distraction, doesn't want to provide the temporary escape from the aching in his heart that she knows will only hurt him more in the long run, and though he should be appreciative, he can't handle the overwhelming sadness building its way through his chest and up his throat. He starts to lean in again, but stops when he sees her attention is not on him, but behind him, beyond him.

"_Peeta._.." she says warningly, slowly standing up. "Could you come over here slowly, please?"

Curious, Finnick twists around to look at what she sees, expression turning from confusion to alertness as he stands up and joins her guarded stance, grabbing his trident along the way. Peeta looks back at them with innocent obliviousness from his place across the pond, turning back towards the spile to see a set of sharp teeth and black eyes snarling at him. Panicking, he stumbles back, falling into the pond before getting back up to join him and Katniss.

Monkeys_._

Baboons.

_Mutts._

They're everywhere. In the trees, at the edge of the pond, behind them, beside them, above them. They are countless. And they are slowly closing in.

And Finnick knows they're in serious trouble.


	9. Pt II: Rain to Storm

**A/N: 6/14/2015**

**Thank you, Nightshade Mirakura, J. S. Martin, loveshay199, and didnotthinkofthat for your reviews. I love you guys! :D**

**Reading Time: 15 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter nine: Rain to Storm~

* * *

In all her years spent on this earth, Katniss never imagined that she would be attacked by apes.

She knows they're nothing more than Mutts, mutations created by the Capitol to provide 'excitement' in The Games when there is none, but it doesn't quell the fear gripping her heart and lungs as she runs for her life through the jungle with Peeta and Finnick. They head for the beach, dodging and leaping over obstacles as they try their best not to get mauled, and her life is saved repeatedly by her teammates as they run toward a destination that seems to be getting farther and farther away no matter how hard they push themselves.

She shoots one of the baboons as it flies towards her, its cry cut short as the arrow embeds itself into its chest and it falls in a heap at her feet, and she looks back in the direction of the beach to try and guage how far they have to go. A break in the trees gives her a clear view of the Cornucopia, and just as she exhales with relief she's knocked to the ground by a heavy, furry body. She struggles, panicking as she flails her arms and legs to try and get it off her, but it's no use as it's too heavy to move and its fangs are too close for her to use her bow. She lets out a cry of fear, thinking that this will be the moment she dies, when the creature suddenly freezes, its stony eyes fading right before her as it goes limp.

It's pulled off of her a moment later, and she's met with the sight of Finnick pulling his trident from the ape's back as he roughly pushes it away with his foot.

He extends a hand toward her, pulling her to her feet as Peeta yells from some feet away, "Come on! We gotta get to the beach!"

"Peeta wait!" She yells, but he's already running ahead of them.

Grunting in frustration, she picks up her bow and follows after him, hoping that Finnick is as close behind her as she thinks and not lying dead on the jungle floor somewhere. She shoots a couple more of the Mutts and Peeta comes back into view, but just as she moves to reload her arrow her weapon is knocked from her hands and she's on the ground again, scrambling to get back up before nine-inch fangs are sunk into the back of her neck.

She kicks at the thing, trying to keep it away from her long enough to reach her bow, when Finnick blazes past her with his trident, shoving its razor-sharp tip into the mutation's eyes. It screeches in agony, the sound so loud that the tiny hairs in her ears vibrate painfully, but she does her best to ignore it as she takes her weapon back and runs with Finnick once more.

She finally reaches Peeta, but sees that he's not alone – there's a woman with him. She's lying on the ground, gasping for breath through the gash in her throat, and Katniss looks uncertainly between her and Peeta.

"Who's this?"

"A Morphling!" Peeta answers quickly. "Come on, help me get her!"

She knows it's ultimately useless trying to save her - the gash in her throat is too deep and no amount of miracles or sponsor gifts will be enough to change that - but she's not about to leave her to the Mutts either.

Katniss hefts her bow onto her shoulder and grabs the woman's arm, and she and Peeta run as fast as they possibly can through the jungle as they drag her to the beach, Finnick following close behind.

* * *

They make it just in time, bursting through the weeds and onto the white sand as they stumble into the ocean as the baboon-like Mutts come to a skidding halt a few meters outside the tree-line.

They stand there, gentle waves pushing and pulling at their feet as the deadly animals retreat back into the jungle, having suddenly lost interest in chasing their prey through the open water. The Morphling gasps below them, drawing their attention to her fatal injury and the blood that is slowly tainting the water, and Peeta takes it upon himself to gather her into his arms and comfort her in her last moments.

"Hey...hey!" He says softly, looking into her eyes. "It's okay! It's gonna be fine. Don't worry..." He looks up at the sky, which is now a mixture of blues and pinks and yellows due to the sunrise, and says, "Hey, you wanna see something cool? Look up." The Morphling does as he suggests, taking in the beautiful swirl of clouds and colors as she calms her dying breaths.

"It's incredible, isn't it?" Peeta asks, looking up with her. "Don't worry about anything else. Just look at the sky. I'll be right here with you. Just look at the sky..."

Katniss stares down at her District partner and the dying woman she doesn't know, and she has to look up at the sky to keep any tears from filling her eyes. Finnick looks as well, admiring the view with her, and they all stand there in the water as the waves go in and out and the sun rises and the woman slowly fades away, her unsuccessful breaths becoming less and less desperate as they take in the amazing beauty above their heads. She doesn't know how long they stand there, but eventually the cannon goes off and Peeta lets her slip from his arms, drifting further and further into the ocean until she's just a floating corpse, and they all watch as the hovercraft comes and takes her away from the world forever.

"She sacrificed herself for me," Peeta mutters softly. "And I didn't even know her name..."

She looks at him, studying his face as he stares out into the water, confusion spreading over her face. "...She sacrificed herself?"

Peeta shrugs, watching as the hovercraft shrinks from view, and says, "I don't know...it's what it seemed like."

Katniss looks down, brows knitting in contemplation as she turns her head back to the sea.

It didn't make any sense.

* * *

They stay by the beach for the better part of an hour, and Finnick is able to catch some fish for them to eat with his trident.

Katniss has never cared for seafood, but then again this would be the first time she's ever really tried it. But her assumptions are right, and she's only able to eat it because she's absolutely starving. They sit in a small circle beneath a canopy of bare bush branches, the only sounds being that of eating and the ocean waves against the shore, and Peeta focuses his time on multitasking between eating and opening a clam he found in the water.

She almost tells him to stop, that he's not going to be able to open it, but he does; and there's something inside of it.

"Here," he says sweetly, handing her his findings.

She puts down her fish and leans over to see what's in his palm – a black pearl. It's tiny, smaller than a marble, but it's beautiful nonetheless.

She takes the pearl, inspecting its smooth texture and reflective surface, and says, "Thank you."

She doesn't catch the dorky smile on Peeta's face that he sends her way, but she _does_ notice the scowl on Finnick's as he glares at the pearl between her fingers, raising a piece of fish to his mouth and violently ripping off a chunk with his teeth as he looks hatefully out toward the Cornucopia.

She's about to ask him what his problem is – although she already has a pretty good idea – when a scream rips through the silence and echoes out into the air.

Alarmed, they leap to their feet, searching for the source of the sound, and not a moment later they witness a tsunami hurtling through the jungle on the other side of the arena, pushing past the tall trees as though they're made of rubber. The waves burst past the tree-line and tumble across the beach, crashing into the Cornucopia with deadly force before being stopped by an invisible wall. The wave shrinks, shifting from a spike to a lump as it drops back down to the waters below, the aftershock rippling across the water in large waves that die out as they go.

The destructive power of the tsunami is nothing but a strong tide by the time it reaches them, pushing up past the shore and flooding past their feet, softening the sand as it slowly pulls back, and Katniss can't help but feel that there's something strange about it that's somehow connected to the Mutts they'd just escaped an hour ago.

"Well there's something you don't see every day," Finnick remarks.

The hovercraft appears a moment later, and she can only assume that the screams she heard earlier were from the dead Victors. They stand watching, wordlessly following the hovercraft with their eyes as it picks up the bodies, when they hear voices coming from their right. Peeta backs away instinctively, and Finnick pushes Katniss back with his arm as they flatten themselves against the canopy of branches, listening intently.

Katniss can't understand what they're saying, but Finnick seems to as he relaxes his shoulders and his arm falls from her stomach to his side, breathing in relief. She opens her mouth to ask him who it is, but he's coming out from under the canopy a moment later, the faint whisper of 'Johanna' on his lips.

Briefly looking back at Peeta, Katniss slowly steps out from their hiding place to see Finnick approaching Johanna, Wiress, and Beetee with open arms, and though she can only see the back of him, she knows he's smiling.

"Johanna!" He says, getting the axe-weilding girl's attention.

"Finnick!" She shouts back, smiling and running excitedly towards him.

"Well..." Peeta says quietly from her left. "It looks like we have more allies."

He moves in front of her to follow Finnick's lead, and though she doesn't know why, she's irritated with him for saying this. It's not that more allies wouldn't be useful, but in her opinion they were doing just fine with the few members they had already in their little group, and the _last_ thing she wanted was to have three extra people to watch out for when the time came that it was all down to them.

She catches up to Peeta and the others just in time to see Finnick and Johanna embracing, holding onto each other as though they're the last humans alive, and she stops in her tracks as she witnesses the exchange.

She can't explain it, but a pang of anger and sadness hit her chest within her next heartbeat, and she suddenly can't stand to be in the presence of either of them anymore. She knows it's probably nothing more than a simple reunion, a happy understanding that the other is still alive and kicking, but she doesn't like it. She knows that it's stupid, that she shouldn't care at all who Finnick does and doesn't touch or talk to or spend his time with, that it's unfair and unjust of her to be angry when she herself had made it quite clear that they couldn't be together ever again, but she can't just stand idly by while they hug each other like long-lost lovers or lifetime buddies.

She feels like an intruder, like she's witnessing something she's not supposed to, or being part of a moment she's not meant to be in.

So she does the only thing she can in her situation.

She looks away.

* * *

After meeting up on the beach, Johanna explained that she had taken Blight, her District partner, and Wiress and Beetee into the jungle where she thought they'd be safe. Everything had gone fine for the first hour, until it started raining blood. Blight had hit the forcefield as they attempted to flee, just like Peeta had, only he hadn't been fortunate enough to survive. And now here they were, sitting on the beach and cleaning themselves in the water as they conversed and tossed ideas back and forth regarding how to deal with the other Tributes.

Katniss sighs as she takes a handful of water and pours it over Wiress' head, washing the blood from her short, bobbed hair. Finnick was with her a few feet away, wiping the blood off his trident as they waded in the water, but Katniss paid him no mind as she kept her eyes set firmly on the matted tussle of hair beneath her fingers and listened to Wiress mumble.

"Tick tock...tick tock..."

Beetee had said that she was in shock, but Katniss didn't know if it wasn't more along the lines of dehydration. Still, Beetee being the genius, she said nothing to challenge him as she took her out into the water to get her cleaned up.

"Tick tock...tick tock..."

"God, with all that mumbling you'd think she discovered the meaning of life."

Finnick's attempt at humor is ill-placed in her opinion, but she does smile as she smooths out the tangles in Wiress' hair.

"...What's that thing that Beetee has?" She asks, now that they've opened the gates of conversation.

Finnick looks back towards the beach where Johanna, Peeta, and Beetee sit talking, and wades closer to her as he answers, "That coil thing? I dunno. Looks like some kind of wire. Johanna said she got it for him."

Her smile drops at the mention of Johanna, and she exhales in annoyance as she shuts her mouth and takes some more water to Wiress' hair.

Finnick seems to notice her change in attitude, and comes to stand beside her as she tends to the older woman, so close it causes her to shift away and move around to the other side of the shocked Tribute.

"You know, you've been out here with her for a while now," he says, looking down at the mumbling woman before letting his face break out into a smirk. "I think she's clean."

She starts to huff at his 'keen' observation, stopping when she realizes how childish that would be, and instead slicks her bangs back angrily across her head and snaps, "I could say the same thing about you. I didn't know it took so long to wash a trident."

She looks up at him in a show of defiance, but her stony expression is countered when she sees the way he's looking at her. His eyes are alight with something akin to fascination and wonder, as one would a particularly beautiful painting or sculpture, and the intensity of it startles her. She suddenly can't remember the snippy remark she'd had planned before she looked at him, and any other words are lost on her tongue as she takes in the emotions playing across his face.

"If you keep looking at me like that I might not be able to control myself," he whispers with a slight grin, and though under any other circumstance she would have written him off as being needlessly flirty, she can't bring herself to reprimand him or push him away.

Because despite the fact that she has no real reason to trust him, that his reputation amongst women for being the biggest Playboy in all the Capitol should far outweigh any feelings she has for him, she knows that his words are sincere. And suddenly she feels stupid for treating him like dirt, for getting jealous of Johanna when _she's_ the one who's been forcing him to put up with things far worse than a hug between herself and Peeta, and a shameful blush tints her cheeks at the realization.

"Just leave," she whispers softly, blinking rapidly and looking down at the water, hoping to hide her reaction from not only him, but from the prying eyes of the Capitol as well.

"...Okay, Beautiful," he says, chuckling and looking down as he shifts the grip on his trident to his other hand.

She feels thick ripples travel past her through the water, and she knows he's leaving. Relieved, she looks back up at his retreating figure, happy that the heat is leaving her face.

"I'll leave you to your 'me' time," he calls over his shoulder. "In the meantime, clean her up. I'll go join the others and see if we can come up with a plan to deal with the Careers."

She watches as he trudges through the water and up past the waves, going to sit with the others, and sighs. She goes back to her place behind Wiress, whose mumbling has nowhere near ceased, and with nothing else to do she thinks about the possible meaning (if any) behind her words.

"Tick tock," she says softly. "Tick tock...tick tock..."

_Tick tock? _She thinks, brows furrowing as she looks down at her now clean scalp. She looks up to where the older woman's gaze rests, on the Cornucopia and the rocks it sits on, past the shore and into the trees, trying to understand.

"Tick tock! Tick tock!"

Tick tock.

_Tick tock..._

Her attention is momentarily snatched by the sight of lightning, and she sees that it's striking the exact same point on the large tree across the arena that it had last night.

And suddenly it all makes sense - the Cornucopia, the wedges of rock and the sections of ocean, the fog, the monkeys, the wave, the blood rain...one after the other, never at the same time. At around every _hour_...

And that's when it hits her.

The arena; it's not supposed to be a jungle, or a beach or an ocean, or some strange, twisted play on nature that the Gamemakers thought would be fun and exciting to the millions of viewers on tv.

It's a clock.

And it just may be their key to survival.

* * *

"This entire arena is laid out like a giant clock, with a different threat every hour. But they seem to only stay within their wedge, so it's not impossible to keep out of their range."

Katniss takes a stick and draws a circle in the dark sand just outside the Cornucopia, demonstrating her theory by separating it into twelve parts and pointing to each 'number' on the clock.

"See, look; it all started with the lightning. And then the blood rain, and then the fog, and then the monkeys. That's the first four hours. Then at about ten that big wave hit from over there."

She turns away from her crude depiction and points at the piece of jungle beyond the Cornucopia, and the others nod their understanding.

"Wiress?" Finnick says, grinning at the older woman. "You're amazing."

"Look," Peeta says, pointing at the Cornucopia. "The tail of the Cornucopia points to twelve."

Katniss nods. "That's where the lightning strikes at noon and midnight."

"Strikes where, exactly?" Beetee asks, fixing his glasses as she points.

"That big tree over there."

A slow grin comes to his lips. "Good."

Their attention is momentarily turned to Wiress, who sits at the edge of the rocks hugging her knees and rocking back and forth as she sings, "Hickory dickory dock...the mouse ran up the clock..."

"Well at least she's saying more than two words now," Peeta supplies offhandedly, and the others turn to stare at him. "...What?"

"Ugh, so let me get this _straight_," Johanna cuts in, and Katniss has to keep from rolling her eyes. "From twelve to one there's lightning, from one to two is blood, then fog, and then monkeys...is that about right?"

Katniss nods. "Yeah. But I don't know about what comes in these other wedges. Did you guys happen to see anything?"

"Pfft. Nothing but _blood_," Johanna scoffs.

"It doesn't _matter_ what else there is," Peeta says, looking at her depiction of the arena. "If we steer clear of the one that's active, we'll be safe."

"_Relatively_ speaking," Finnick comments, taking interest in the ceiling of the Cornucopia when Katniss shoots him a look.

A gasp interrupts the silence, and they all look over just in time to see Gloss stabbing Wiress in the heart. Katniss shoots him in the chest before she's even consciously aware of it, and she watches with spiked adrenaline as he and Wiress fall off the edge of the rocks and into the sea. She doesn't have time to grieve as Cashmere comes running at her a moment later to avenge her brother, and she's only saved because Johanna clotheslines her and buries her ax into the blonde woman's chest, her cries of battle stopping short.

Katniss thinks that maybe that's the last of them when Brutus appears out of nowhere and attacks Finnick, catching the trident-wielding Tribute off guard as he slices at him with a sword. She raises her bow to try and shoot him off of him, to save him, but finds that she can't get a clear shot without risking hurting Finnick as well. Brutus, however, doesn't seem too intent on killing Finnick – he sees her aiming at him and abandons his attempts, diving into the water and swimming away.

She grunts in frustration, lowering her bow, when the Cornucopia suddenly groans, the deafening sound of metal and rock grating against her ears.

And then it starts to spin.

* * *

She's knocked off her feet before she can even really process what's happening, and the only thing keeping her anchored is Johanna's bruising grip on her wrist as she digs her ax into the rock, securing them to the ground.

But it isn't enough; the Cornucopia spins at an increasingly fast rate, splashing water and salt onto them in heaps, and her clothes are too wet and her hands are too slippery, and no matter how tightly she holds on Johanna can't _keep_ her there. She slips from her hold as easily as a soap-covered ring on a finger, and Katniss is just able to register the horror on the raven-haired woman's face as she's tossed through the air and plummeted into the water.

Water envelops her in an instant, soaking her from head to toe as she's tossed around like a rag doll. She braces herself, abdominal muscles tensing and eyes screwing shut as she's thrown throughout the water, and she waits for the unpleasant moment when her face is smashed into a hard, unforgiving wall of rock. She doesn't bother fighting the current ripping past her, because she knows that it will do more harm than good, but her air supply is dwindling and her lungs feel like they're about to burst, and though she knows that she probably won't get out of this alive she can't bring herself to do anything less than try.

She holds out for as long as she can, but her body can only withstand functioning with a handful of air for so long; her leg smacks against a rock and the remaining oxygen in her lungs is purged. She gulps in a mouthful of water as a result, opening her eyes in shock and fear as her body jerks in panic. Salt burns her eyes but she can't focus on it as she tries repeatedly to bring air into her lungs and fails. Images of Prim and her mother flash before her eyes, followed by Gale and Haymitch and Effie and Peeta and _Finnick_, and she realizes with a peaceful clarity that this is the end. She closes her eyes, waiting for her body to drift into unconsciousness, apologizing to Prim for not fighting harder as she accepts her fate...

And then it stops.

The rushing water slows to a gentle current, and the foamy bubbles of salt water disappear to reveal the sunlight streaming through the clear liquid.

She floats to the surface, head pounding and bodily disoriented to the point that her stomach rolls, and though she's safe now, she can't find the strength to command her muscles to move towards shore. A muffled cry of what she thinks is her name is called, and the next thing she knows she's being lifted out of the water and onto the rocks.

"Are you okay? _Katniss,_ are you _okay?!_"

She can hear the panic in their voice, but she's unable to answer them as she sputters and coughs and gasps for air and the salt stings at her eyes, burns her nose and throat. She feels hands rolling her onto her side and emptying the water from her lungs, and she takes a deep breath as she's rolled back over, staring wide-eyed at the sky, its brilliant hues of blue and yellow and white seeming more vibrant than before, and she suddenly knows what it was that the Morphling woman was feeling just moments before her passing.

Her lovely view is interrupted by someone leaning over her, the sun's rays streaming past them with such brightness that she has to refocus her eyes in order to see their darkened features properly, and with some difficulty she realizes that it's Finnick.

She stares at him, eyes widening further as it slowly dawns on her that it wasn't Peeta, the boy with the bread that had saved her more times than she could count and quietly adored her to no end, who saved her, but Finnick Odair. They stare at each other for a small eternity, one with shock and the other with concern, when their moment is ripped away by the one person she assumed would have been the one to save her in the first place.

Peeta practically shoves Finnick out of the way, pushing past him to get to her, and holds her face between his hands as he looks her over for injuries, eyebrows wrinkled in worry.

"Katniss?! Oh, thank God, are you alright?"

She nods weakly, staring up at his baby-blue eyes, fully aware of Finnick retreating towards the Cornucopia in the background, and though it's Peeta that holds her close and asks her over and over again if she's okay, she can't shake the image of Finnick's terrified face as he pulled her from the water.

* * *

**A/N: Yay, their relationship's developing! XD**

**Let me know what you think so I can reply back to you!**

**'Til next time!**


	10. Pt II: Storm to Flood

**A/N: 06/19/2015 I was gonna wait until next week to update again, but it already feels like it's been a really long time so I went ahead and posted the next chapter. Not that you guys'll mind, right?**

**Thank you Mrsfinnickodair0102, elfielovesbooks, Nightshade Mirakuru (lol you're gonna _fly_ through this chapter if you read over 300wpm), mini (glad you like my 'what if' depiction!), Guest, Guest, MoonPrincess623, Anabanana23, and loveshay199 for your reviews :)**

**Reading Time: **

**If you're fast: 6 mins or less. **

**If you're slow: 10 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter ten: Storm to Flood~

* * *

They take some supplies from the Cornucopia and retreat to the beach after they decide it's safe to do so, none too keen on formulating a plan on a surface that could start spinning again at any minute.

Finnick keeps a close eye on Katniss as they toss ideas back and forth, worried that she's not doing as fine as she says she is. Try as he might, he can't get the image of her near-lifeless body out of his mind, the way she just floated in the water, not moving...he feels the urge to cringe and shiver, suppressing it as he shakes his head to will the thought away. Katniss sits beneath the canopy, conversing with the others while he stays silent.

"Okay, so aside from Brutus and Enobaria, who's left?"

"Maybe Chaffe?" Peeta suggests, though he's clearly unsure. "Just those three, I think."

Just _barely_ keeping himself from rolling his eyes, Finnick speaks up. "Look, they know they're outnumbered, so I doubt they'll ambush us again. We're safe out in the open here on the beach."

"So what do we do, then?" Johanna snips, challenging him as she crosses her arms. "What, do you expect us to just hunt them down? We can't just-"

She is interrupted by a piercing scream, loud and clear and crisp, and they all look towards the jungle where it's coming from.

Finnick grabs his trident and holds it tightly, preparing for whatever's coming, when Katniss whispers, "Prim..."

He looks at her, confused, and she yells the name again.

"PRIM!"

She dashes off into the trees before anyone can question her, and he grabs unsuccessfully at her arm to try and get her to stop.

"Katniss, no!"

But she isn't listening; she's already meters into the jungle, running and running with a new-found energy he hadn't known existed within her. He doesn't hesitate to follow her, he just does. He bolts past the tree-line after her, hearing her call for her sister over and over again. He's surprised at how deep into the jungle she's gotten, and he's pretty winded by the time he reaches her.

"Katniss!" He calls, slowing his pace as he comes up behind her, breathing heavily. "Are you okay?"

She whirls around to face him, eyes wide with horror. She begins to answer, but is cut off by the sound of another piercing scream, this one more deep and matured. In fact, it almost sounds like-

"Annie."

His stomach drops and he's moving forward before he can even catch himself, and Katniss puts her hands on his chest to stop him from going any further as he frantically searches for the source of the sound.

"No! Finnick, it's not-"

"Annie?!" He screams, waiting to see if she'll answer him. "_Annie!_"

Was it true? Had the Capitol gotten a hold of her? Was he finally being punished for his actions? For his thoughts and feelings towards Katniss and his betrayal of Annie? Was this Snow's way of mocking him?

"It's not_ her!_" Katniss says, eyes pleading for him to understand. "It's just a jabberjay! She's not here!"

He's finally able to stop searching and look at her, and though her explanation makes sense, it does little to comfort him. "How do you think they're making that sound? _Jabberjays copy!_"

Her own face pales then, and another scream shreds through the air, calling for help, this one male.

"Gale..." She whispers, eyes glistening with tears.

And suddenly they're bombarded with voices, male and female alike, each one calling out for help as though on their dying breath, and neither of them can take the guilt that drops from their hearts to their stomachs. And so they run.

They fly through the lush trees and brightly-colored plants as they head back to the beach, jabberjays flying and diving and pecking at them as they move. In a burst of adrenaline, Katniss speeds ahead of him, desperate to get out of hearing range of the calls and cries of her family and loved ones, and Finnick realizes that it's meant for her just as much as it is for him. Snow must have thought it necessary to teach them a lesson.

Peeta and the others come into view, and Finnick watches as she runs toward him like he's the only beacon of light through miles of darkness, and his heart fills with just the tiniest bit of sadness before being overtaken by the fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Katniss is inches away from Peeta when she smacks right into an invisible wall, and he realizes it must be the edge of the wedge for the hour's threat. Finnick finally reaches the wall and notices that he can't hear Peeta or the others, and that he and Katniss are stuck here until their punishment passes.

He beats his fists against the forcefield, knowing he won't break it but trying anyway, and Katniss is slowly unreeling beside him. She claws her fingers through her hair and presses tight against her ears, trying to block out the sounds, and he sees that she's beginning to hyperventilate. He watches helplessly as she sinks to the ground, Peeta following her down on the other side of the wall as he tries to comfort her with soundless words, and he's never felt more useless in his entire life as she does the only thing she can to drown out the noise.

She screams.

And there's nothing he can do to help her.

* * *

They make it back to the beach after the walls let up and the birds cease to berate their ears, and Finnick goes off alone to sit on the shore, letting the water sweep up past him and shrink back into the sea as he stares off into space.

Katniss seemed to be doing fine, if not a little shaken. He had let Peeta comfort her, as it should be, and she was up and moving around again in minutes, as if nothing had happened. He couldn't say that he didn't want it to be him, that _he_ wanted to be the one to hold and comfort her, to be able to nurse her broken mind back to health with nothing but his words and touch. But he knew now that that could never be the case.

Snow had made it perfectly clear what he thought of their little 'affair', and he wouldn't stand for it. And looking back, he honestly didn't know what he was thinking, trying to fool the whole world like that. Really; _how much more obvious could he have been?_

He tears his gaze away from the Cornucopia and shakes his head, focusing instead on the wet sand under his left hand as the water pushes and pulls at the tiny particles, creating a growing crater beneath his palm. He stares forlornly at it, letting the feelings of sadness and emptiness and anger and loss clash in a continuous swirl beneath his ribcage.

He's vaguely aware of someone coming up behind him, and his heart nearly snaps when he realizes it's Katniss. She lowers herself to sit next to him on the wet sand, mirroring his pose as she wraps her arms loosely around her knees and stares out at the setting sun, and he does all he can to avoid her eyes. He feels like absolute garbage with her beside him, and though he knows he shouldn't blame her for the way he feels he also can't stand the sight of her right now. Her very _presence_ is suffocating him, taunting him with what he can't have, and it's the best he can do to just sit there and not get up and walk away.

"...I'm sure they didn't hurt Annie," she says, staring out at the water.

It's an opener for conversation, but he's not in the mood to talk. He nods his agreeance, keeping his eyes set firmly on the retreating waves as he does so.

She seems to sense his unwillingness to speak, which he knows is unusual for him, so she tries again. "You know, if you didn't want to talk, all you had to do was say so."

He snaps before he can stop himself, and the look of surprise on her face is almost too much for him to handle. "Dammit Katniss, why did you _think_ I was over here?! Because I wanted to go for a _swim?_"

She's taken a page out of his book, he realizes, making a snide comment to get a rise out of him, but rather than feel impressed or proud of her he's just the opposite. He lashes out at her, angry that she doesn't get what is so abundantly clear to him, and tries his absolute hardest to act as though he doesn't care.

"If I wanted to talk to you I _would._ Do you _really_ think that if I go off on my own it somehow means I want you to follow me? Is that what you think? Because if it is, then you need a serious wake-up call."

His tone is cold and his words are biting, and he knows by the look on her face that he's hurt her. She opens her mouth to counter him, but he's too fast for her stunned lips.

"You know what? Don't_._ Whatever it is you're thinking just _don't_. Whatever this was...it's _over_ now. Get over it. I can't look out for myself and the others at the same time if you're busy following me around like a lost puppy."

She glares at him, lips pursing and jaw clenching as she answers is a dangerous voice, "If you think for one second that I came here for _anything_ other than to check on you and see if you were okay, you're _dead-wrong._"

He turns his face away, unable to look at her. "Why don't you go check on _Peeta?_" He asks coldly. "I'm sure he'd _love_ that."

She tenses, and for a moment he thinks she's going to slap him – and for a moment he wishes she does – but she doesn't. She sits there and stares him down, pinning him with her scornful stare for what feels like hours, before finally getting up and stalking back to the tree-line where Peeta and the others are.

It nearly kills him inside, but it's for the best. If either of them hope to make it through the Games, then he has to cut all ties. The jabberjays were child's play compared to what Snow _could_ do to them, and he's not about to test the limits of his relationship boundaries with her when she has a perfectly innocent knight in shining armor waiting for her with open arms. Peeta may be annoyingly sweet and boyish and naive, but he's been through far more with Katniss than he could ever say for himself and he knows her far better than he could ever hope to claim, and he can't compete with that. Hell, even her 'cousin' from her own District couldn't compete with that! What made him think _he_ could?

"Hey! Finnick!"

He turns at the sound of Johanna's voice, and she waves him over with her ax as she yells, "Get over here, we've got a plan!"

He sighs, looking somberly at the assertive and spiteful young woman, and slowly gets up to do as he is told.

* * *

**A/N: Waah DX Okay, so Katniss and Finnick have had their official 'falling out' now. You have to admit though it kinda had to happen, what with Snow and the Capitol and everyone breathing down their necks. Don't worry though, they'll get back together soon enough, there's just a lot of tension and confusion and stress going on between them right now :)**

**Tell me what you think!**

**'Til next time!**


	11. Pt II: Flood to Wave

**A/N: 06/24/2015 Wow. Only two more chapters until Part II's over. Can you believe it?**

**Thank you annie, elfielovesbooks, loveshay199, TheBlackAndRedSpirit, and MoonPrincess623 for your reviews. They are _much_ appreciated :)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 8 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 14 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter eleven: Flood to Wave~

* * *

Katniss sits on the beach, admiring the sunset with Peeta as the others tend to themselves a ways down the shore.

She plays with the pearl in her hands, rolling it between her digits and covering it with countless fingerprints as she memorizes the feel and texture of it. She still feels the sting of Finnick's words, an unpleasant feeling tainting her otherwise cool demeanor like a drop of ink in a bowl of water. She glares at the sand beside her, feeling nothing but hatred for the tiny, unfeeling particles that are obliviously unaware of her unfounded opinion on them. She wishes they would burst into flames.

"I think we should go," she says suddenly, turning her head to look at Peeta.

It was true. They _should_ go. It was only smart, considering that once the threat of the Careers was out of the way it would be three against two, and the chances of them surviving against hardened veterans of the Games was unlikely. And besides, she doesn't like these people. She doesn't want to have to deal with their hurtful words and annoying attitudes and grating voices and confusing behaviors anymore. She just can't.

"Why?" Peeta asks. "The plan...it's gonna work."

He's referring to Beetee's idea to take the copper wire he'd obtained and wrap it around the lightning tree, trailing the coil through the jungle and into the ocean where the lightning can travel along it and fry everything in its path when it strikes, thus killing the Careers. She herself has no doubt in her mind that it will work, Beetee being the genius that he is. But then of course, it's not the possibility of failure that she's referring to.

"I know it will," she says, clarifying herself. "But when the Careers are finally dead we both know what's gonna happen next."

She doesn't elaborate on what she's insinuating, and she doesn't need to either. Peeta knows what she's talking about, and looks down at the sand and plays idly with his fingers.

"...Well what if it doesn't end like that?" He whispers, not looking at her. "What if we all refuse to kill each other?"

She shakes her head. "We would still be dead."

"Maybe not," he insists, looking earnestly at her. "I mean...if it worked for us last time, why wouldn't it work now?"

"We _barely_ survived the last time, Peeta. _Two Victors?_ Have you ever _heard_ of such a thing? That's crazy enough as it is! Do you really think they'll let _five_ _Victors_ come out of the Games unharmed?"

She doesn't want to be cruel, but she needs to squash the unrealistic hopes he has going through his head. He'll only be disappointed in the future.

"There's only going to be one person walking out of here alive," she says softly. "And it's going to be one of us."

She almost says 'you', that it's going to be _you_ that walks out of here, but she knows that if Peeta knew about her deal with Haymitch to get him out of the Quell alive he would do everything in his power to rail against it and make sure that didn't happen. It's admirable, how deeply he seems to care for her, but also a weakness. And there can be no room for weakness in the Games.

"Look, the Careers are still out there right now," Peeta reasons. "We should at _least_ stick with these guys until midnight. And...when we hear the first cannon...we go."

She stares at him quizzically, surprised at his intellect, and sees that he is one hundred percent sincere in his words. She turns her head to look at Johanna and Beetee, sitting and talking on the beach further down the shore, and thinks about how she wouldn't be able to bring herself to kill Beetee, but that Johanna would probably have no problem with it. And yet there they were, sitting and talking like old friends, like they're _not_ about to fight each other to the death in just a few hours.

She shifts her gaze to Finnick, who has resumed his place on the shoreline, and her gaze hardens to daggers as she stares at his unsuspecting back. She wants to leave _now_, to get as far away from him as possible and let Johanna sink her axe into him at the first stroke of midnight, but knows that Peeta's plan is safer and makes more sense. And she's not about to drag him into the far reaches of the jungle and risk him becoming Career bait.

She turns to Peeta and nods her agreeance, letting her features soften as she looks into his eyes before turning her attention back to the black pearl in her hand.

"...You know," Peeta says suddenly, his voice just above a whisper. "I know you probably made some kind of deal with Haymitch, but he made me promises too."

She looks at him, slightly alarmed that he might know what she'd made their Mentor promise, but he continues to go on and say, "If you died, and I lived? I wouldn't...I'd have _nothing._ There's _no_ one else that I care about."

Their conversation is getting deep, and she doesn't like it. Peeta has always been one to share his inner thoughts with her, so it's nothing new, but it also doesn't make it any less uncomfortable for her to feel like she has to play along in order to spare his feelings.

"Peeta..."

"No," he says, cutting her off. "I'm serious. It's different for you. You have a family that needs you. You _have_ to live. For them."

Images of Prim and Gale and her mother flood her mind, and she struggles to find a reason for him to live in her stead that won't give her away.

"But...but what about you?"

He smiles at her, a slow, soft smile that's both loving and bittersweet, and whispers, "No one needs me."

She stays silent for a few moments, and he turns his head away to stare out at the water and the sky, thinking he's made his point, when suddenly she says-

"I do."

He turns back to her, surprise and shock written all over his face, and she feels the need to reiterate her words, to cement them into his mind and make them official. The Capitol is probably loving this right now.

"I do," she says again, more concrete. "_I_ need you."

The light in his eyes is so bright she thinks she may have sparked a bonfire within them, and he's slowly leaning forward before she can have the time to panic and back away. He kisses her, soft and slow, and though there's no spark in her stomach or fireworks in her chest, it's not unpleasant either. It's...sweet. And innocent. And everything else that Peeta is.

Though she feels terrible for letting him misinterpret her words' meaning, she can't bring herself to ever crush that light behind his eyes, the spark of hope and delight at hearing something he never thought would pass her lips, and even if she could it's too late now. She is fully submerged in the dangerous waters she's been skimming for almost a year, and there's no going back.

And besides, she tells herself, life with Peeta wouldn't be so bad. Having someone to constantly be by her side, to love and protect her and keep the nightmares away, would be far more than she ever saw herself deserving in this life. And she would rather be with someone that truly appreciated her than someone who sent mixed messages and had to keep their relationship a secret. She kisses Peeta harder, wanting to lose herself in his innocence and forget the time she's spent in the company of others less cherishing of her, and he doesn't protest as he brings a hand up to stroke her hair.

"Alright, love birds!"

They break apart, both blushing at the fact that they've been caught, most of all by _Johanna_, and neither look at each other as they wipe their mouths and turn away.

"Come on, let's go! We gotta make it to the tree before midnight!"

She and Peeta get up from their spots and dust themselves free of sand, and move to join Johanna and Beetee as they prepare to head into the jungle.

Finnick is walking up from his place on the shoreline at the same time they are, and she can tell by the look in his eyes and the set in his jaw that he's not happy. Their eyes lock as they converge with Johanna and Beetee, and the closed off, hardened look he gives her tells her everything she needs to know; _he saw_.

She feels a pang of guilt at having pushed him aside in favor of Peeta, but it passes as quickly as it hits her and the wave of anger she feels crashing through her chest afterwards gives her the strength to withhold any sorrow or remorse for her actions. She has no reason whatsoever to feel bad about kissing her fiancée, least of all because she hurt someone who had already hurt her tenfold.

She breaks her gaze from him and walks purposefully forward, keeping beside Peeta as they enter the jungle, and as they slowly make their way to the lightning tree she wonders if the sight of she and Peeta together killed him a little inside, if it stings him as badly now as his words had done to her then.

She hopes it does.

* * *

They make it to the tree with no complications, and Katniss is thankful.

The way there had been stressed, but she was sure that it was only tangible between Finnick and herself and had done little to affect the others, for which she is grateful. The last thing she would want now is to have others suffer because of her pointless quarrel with one of their teammates.

Beetee walks up to the tree and inspects it, marveling at its design. "Impressive conductor. Look here, you can see that there's minimal charring."

He points here and there along various spots on the tree, but soon realizes that his knowledge is lost on their uneducated minds, and with Wiress gone there is no one else to share his enthusiasm for science. He gives up his attempts at 'wowing' them and awkwardly pushes at his glasses. "Aherm, right, well...let's get started."

They continue along with their plan and wrap the wire around the tree, circling it countless times as they make sure it's tightly secured to the wide trunk. She's glad that the tree is so huge, otherwise she would have to deal with Finnick's hard looks and sour attitude, and she doesn't want to do that.

"A lightning strike typically contains five billion Jules of energy," Beetee drones. "So when this thing hits we don't want to be anywhere near it."

He stops what he's doing to hand Katniss the coil containing the remaining spool of wire. "You two girls take this," he instructs, looking between her and Johanna. "Unspool it carefully, make sure it doesn't get caught or snagged on anything, and be sure to submerge the entire coil in the water. Then head to the tree at the two O'clock wedge, we'll meet you there. Do you understand?"

Katniss nods, because she _does_ understand, but she also feels the need to question his orders. She can't quite put her finger on it, but she feels as though she should say something to challenge him as a pool of uncertainty sits itself in her stomach.

Luckily for her Peeta steps forward, one step ahead of her as he questions Beetee on his own. "Why don't Finnick and Johanna stay here and Katniss and I can take the coil?"

Beetee's disapproval is immediate. "No. No, no, no. No, I need you here to protect me...a- and the tree."

She and Peeta exchange looks, now clearly getting the feeling that something's wrong, and Peeta tries once again to protest as he tries to corner Beetee.

"No, I _need_ to go with her. We're a team, we stick together."

"There are _two_ Careers out there," Beetee interjects. "Thus, I need two guards."

"Finnick can protect you all by himself," Peeta counters, and Katniss joins in.

"Yeah, I don't see why Finnick and Johanna can't stay with you while Peeta and I take the coil."

Beetee swallows, nervously looking between them as he jumps to his last line of defense. "_Look_; you all agreed to keep me alive until midnight, correct?"

"Yeah," Johanna says, tone accusing. "It's _his_ plan and we _all_ agreed to it. Are you suddenly gonna bail on us now just because you and your star-crossed lover might have to split up?"

Katniss gapes at her, speechless, and Finnick decides to join in on the group discussion at the last possible second.

"Is there a problem here?" He asks, though he's only looking at her.

Katniss tries to hold her own against the intensity of his stare, but finds that she is unable to do so under the current circumstances, and she has to look away. And suddenly she feels guilty for even speaking up, and she can't remember how to formulate words or why she thought to question Beetee in the first place. She blinks rapidly under the pressure she's put under by the others, and though she knows Peeta is waiting for her to say that 'yes, there _is_ a problem', she does just the opposite.

"...No." She says, shaking her head as she struggles to lift her eyes and face him. "No, there's no problem."

Finnick's face is just as scrutinizing as before as she stares at him, and Peeta's is decorated in pure surprise.

Feeling brazen, she walks up to Peeta and kisses him, letting the contact between their lips last deliberately longer than necessary, and looks as deeply into his eyes as she possibly can as she whispers, "I'll see you at midnight."

He nods, smiling that small smile he does when he's a little unsure but inexplicably happy, and she relishes in the rush of satisfaction that floods her veins as she sees Finnick turn away from the sight of their display.

She takes the coil and joins Johanna a few meters away, and the two start their journey back to the Cornucopia with the copper wire. She takes one last look at Peeta before he disappears from her line of sight, imprinting the image of his face into her mind as she fears this may be the last time she sees him.

And little does she know, she's right.


	12. Pt II: Wave to Ripple

**A/N: 06/29/2015 Back with an update! :D**

**Thank you elfielovesbooks, MoonPrincess623, loveshay199, Guest, Mrsfinnickodair0102, and TheBlackAndRedSpirit for your reviews! And enjoy the chapter!**

**Dyanna: Thank you very much for your review! I would've messaged you but you're a guest, so I'll have to settle for this. I really don't wanna give away spoilers, but yes, Peeta is going to be taken by the Capitol. I thought that having him alive would create more drama and more time for Katniss and Finnick to be together realistically...and I wanted to stay close to the original storyline. I want this fic to be a plausible 'what if' to the Hunger Games universe. So yeah, please enjoy the chapter! :D**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 7 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 13 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twelve: Wave to Ripple~

* * *

They're halfway to the beach when Katniss feels a tug on the coil.

She looks behind them, afraid that it got caught on one of the boulders littered throughout the trail they've been following, but is unable to pinpoint the source. And then it tugs again. Her eyes follow the jiggling wire to a spot behind a particularly large rock, and she has just enough time to register that something's horribly wrong before the line snaps completely and Brutus emerges from his hiding place behind the rocks.

Terror strikes her nerves and she readies her bow to defend herself, unsuspecting of the brutal blow to the head Johanna gives her with the coil from behind. The bow falls from her hands and she's knocked to the ground, vision blurring so much that she can hardly even make out the figure of the District 7 woman leaning over her. She feels a sharp pain a beat later, and she screams in agony as her right arm is torn open by a cold metal blade.

The tracker that the Capitol had given her is gruesomely carved out of her skin, and she's in such shock that this is happening to her that she can't even force herself to try and get away. Something warm and metallic is spread across her neck, and she vaguely recognizes it to be her own blood. She closes her eyes and accepts her fate as she braces herself for the final blow, but it never comes; instead, someone leans down and whispers harshly in her ear.

"_Stay. Put._"

It's Johanna's voice, but she can't seem to process the meaning of her words as she lays there with her arm cut open and her blood smeared all over her neck. She's gone a moment later, and she hears the rustling of grass and leaves as she runs away, Brutus and Enobaria following swiftly behind her.

She gets up as soon as she deems it's safe, shock jolting her backwards and into a wall of dirt as someone else's voice comes bursting through the night air.

"Johanna?! Katniss?!"

It's Finnick, she realizes, and he's looking for her.

She almost steps out from underneath the overhang she's flattened herself against to show herself to the man standing above her, but stops herself from doing anything of the sort when everything suddenly clicks in her brain; _this was all planned_. They _wanted_ to split them up, to get Peeta and her alone. Then they could easily finish them off after dealing with the Careers. Finnick and Johanna were obviously well-acquainted, and it would only make sense for them to befriend Wiress and Beetee, whose brains were worth more than her wedding dress. She and Peeta were the outsiders, the expendables. And all that time Finnick had been trying to get close to her...it was all a trick. It was all a trick and she almost fell for it...

Tears sting at her eyes and the dam in her nose loosens, and she has to put a hand over her mouth to keep from making a strangled squeak of pain. Blood trickles down her arm and it feels like a rock has lodged itself in her throat, making it painful to swallow, but she hardly notices these things; she's too focused on muffling her cries and keeping hidden from Finnick.

It seems to take forever, but eventually she hears the continuous beat of his retreating footsteps, and in that moment she breaks.

She lurches off the dirt wall and stumbles unsteadily forward on her feet, head swelling with lightness as she struggles to keep her balance. She breathes heavily, hot tears streaming down her face as the reality of her situation hits her with full force, and she has to struggle to control her breathing as she begins to hyperventilate.

She heaves, breaths coming in sudden, uneven gasps, and she breaks down crying right then and there. To think that she had almost fallen for the Capitol's number one player, to think that he had actually cared for her...her stomach drops with the speed of a raging bullet, and her tears immediately cease as she remembers: Peeta. Peeta is still at the tree. _Not with her. _

No.

Oh, no.

This can't be happening.

She grabs her bow off the ground and breaks into a run, racing towards the lightning tree with a speed she never knew she possessed, _praying_ that her district partner would still be alive by the time she got there. Her grief is suddenly forgotten, her tears drying to stains and the lump in her throat dulling to a mild pain, and all she can think of is Peeta. Only two thoughts are running through her head, and nothing else matters.

She has to find Peeta.

And she has to do it now.

* * *

She arrives just in time to see sparks fly from the lightning tree, and then a body as it flies through the air and lands in an unconscious heap, and for a heart-stopping moment she thinks it's Peeta.

She rushes to their side, rolling them over to find that it isn't Peeta, but Beetee. Relieved but confused, she looks over to the spot where he'd been by the tree, seeing a wooden spike lying on the ground with some of the copper wire wound around it. She doesn't have time to go over what he was trying to do in her brain, though, because a second later Finnick comes bounding through the jungle screaming her name.

"KATNISS! _KATNISS!_"

A feeling of sickness pools in her throat and stomach, and in a moment of panic she runs for cover in the waist-high plants a few meters from the lightning tree. She sees Finnick coming through a break in the trees and she raises her bow, taking aim as her breath becomes uneven and her eyes blurry. He stops about twenty feet away, looking everywhere as he calls out for her, and her heart aches with every shout.

"Katniss?! KATNISS?!"

He continues to turn his head every which way, as though he were in a panicked frenzy to find his dying long-lost love, to find _Annie. _He abruptly stops his movements altogether, and she knows he's seen her. Hesitantly, she stands, struggling to keep her arrow steady as she tries and fails to control her running nose and erratic breathing.

"Katniss...please don't do this," he pleads, voice cracking as he extends an arm out toward her.

"..._Why?_" She asks brokenly, fresh tears spilling from her eyes.

"Because-!" he stops himself, biting his bottom lip to keep from finishing his sentence, and from the shakiness in his voice and the look on his face she thinks that maybe he's too emotional and high-strung to say anything without breaking down completely, but she knows this is just wishful thinking.

She tightens the grip on her bow, knuckles turning white as she yells fiercely, "If you don't give me _one_ reason not to shoot you _right_ now, I will _bury_ this arrow so deep in your chest that it'll come clean out the other side! Now _talk!_"

His mouth falls open before pursing tightly, trying with every ounce of his power to physically hold it in, but he seems to knows that she needs to hear it as much as he wants to say it. And so he bursts.

"Because I _love you!_"

His shout echoes through the trees, and her stance automatically becomes rigid as she looks at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. Her grip on her bow loosens, and she slowly deflates from the righteous, angry lion she once was to a tired, sad cub. Though his words bring her momentary joy, it quickly fades to agony when she realizes that, in the long run, he's just trying to save his own skin. He truly is a talented actor.

"...No you don't," she says, voice a strangled, sobbing whisper as she slowly shakes her head. Her lip trembles and her throat seizes to the point that it's hard to breathe, and her eyes are so full of tears that she can no longer see him clearly.

She feels defeated, and even if she kills him right now he's still beaten her, he's still won. Because even if she does win, even if she is able to walk away with Peeta unscathed, it won't lessen the sadness weighing unbearably down on her chest or the heartbreak that is sure to darken her days for years to come. Nothing will. And it kills her inside.

Finnick's expression slowly changes from a look of earnest to that of anger, and he clenches his jaw before bursting, "Why?! _Why_ is it so hard to believe that I want you?"

Her breathing is shaky and she begins to have more difficulty keeping her arrow steady, and she's so shocked and hopeful and sad and unsure that all she can bring herself to say is, "...What?"

"Do you think that I would go out of my way to save Peeta, to _risk my life _to save _you, _if I didn't care?" He shouts, appealing to her sense of reason. "Do you think I would just grow bored and decide to do that on a whim?! For _anyone?! _Believe me, I _tried_ to keep this casual between us. Just a couple of Victors blowing off steam before the Games. But then you had to go and mess it all up by being..._you._"

Her heart slowly melts and a final wave of tears pushes past her ducts, and her grip on her bow falters so much it's pathetic to even try and aim.

Finnick, encouraged by this, goes on to say more. "If it had been anyone else, _anyone_ else, but you...we wouldn't be in this situation right now." He pauses to swallow, the kind of swallow someone does when they're all choked up and on the verge of tears, before continuing with what he was trying to say. "...So if you're gonna shoot me, fine, I won't hold it against you. I deserve it, I know. But _you_ need to stay alive. For Peeta. For your sister."

Her vision is once again blurred beyond recognition at his words, and her head is so swelled with tears that it hurts, but she knows that if she wants to take care of her family and ensure Peeta's safety, she has to do it. She tightens the hold on her bow, straightens her posture-

Finnick raises his hands up, surrendering to his fate and leaving himself at her mercy, and looks at her with a softened expression. "Just do it, Katniss...I won't fight back."

-but she can't do it. She can't bring herself to let go of the quiver and watch the tip of her arrow fly through the air and into his chest. She won't allow it.

She slowly lowers her bow, relaxing the tense muscles in her neck and arms as she sniffles and allows her tears to cease. Finnick slowly lowers his hands, surprised but obviously relieved, and nods his thanks to her.

Thunder rumbles overhead, and as they look up towards the sky they simultaneously realize that it's almost midnight.

Katniss envisions Snow smiling maliciously down at them from his place in the Capitol. An inner rage slowly starts to fill her, flooding her chest and making her blood pressure rise, and she wants to find a way to get back at them, to make them pay for what they've done, when her mind suddenly flashes back to Beetee and the string of coil he'd had wrapped around that spear, and then it all becomes clear what he was trying to do; he was going to overload the tree and take down the forcefield.

"Katniss," Finnick says warily. "Get away from that tree."

She quickly glances over at the unconscious form of Beetee, to the spear he'd had and then to the lightning tree, and within the next second she's decided what she's going to do.

She grabs the copper wire connected to the tree that's lying on the ground and wraps it around the tip of her arrow, moving as quickly as she can for fear of being too slow. She takes aim with it and points it at the night sky, hatred bubbling inside her with such a fiery intensity that her very _gaze_ could kill someone. She hopes it's Snow.

Finnick is running towards her, trying to stop her from doing what she's trying to do-

"KATNISS, GET AWAY FROM THAT TREE!"

-but it's too late.

She pulls back as far as she can and releases the arrow, watching in satisfaction as the lightning surges through the copper wire and up into the forcefield. She wants to see the invisible walls come tumbling down but she isn't so fortunate; the lightning tree sends out a burst of energy and she's knocked from her feet, flying through the air and tumbling into the weeds below.

She's thrown into unconsciousness the second she hits the ground, and her last thoughts are millisecond images of Peeta, Prim, and Finnick before everything cuts to black.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter will be the last for Part II! Are you excited to get on to District 13? :D**

**Anyway, please don't hesitate to share your thoughts! I'd love to know what you think :)**

**'Til next time!**


	13. Pt II: Ripple to Stagnant

**A/N: 06/30/2015 Okay, so I _was _gonna wait a few days before I updated again, but I'm gonna be out and about and I won't have time, so I figured sooner is better than later; am I right? Of course I am.**

**Thank you very much to elfielovesbooks, loveshay199, hunnymoonxprincesa, and Mrsfinnickodair0102 for your reviews! :D**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 5 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 9 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter thirteen: Ripple to Stagnant~

* * *

When Finnick wakes up, he's on a hovercraft.

But it's not just any hovercraft; it's the rebellion's. Plutarch and Katniss' Mentor are there to explain the situation to him, that they were able to save him and Katniss and Beetee but Peeta, Johanna and Annie were being held by the Capitol. Though he was scared for Annie and Johanna, he couldn't have been more relieved to hear that Katniss had made it out of the arena.

She had awoken some time ago, scared and confused beyond all reason when she realized that she had been saved and Peeta hadn't, going so far as to try and stab Haymitch with a syringe before Plutarch sedated her. He had stayed away after that, not wanting to check in on her for fear of being violently rejected, and let Gale go in his stead to see how she was doing.

He had sat in the cockpit for a little over an hour, thinking himself to death on whether or not to just leave her alone until they got to District 13. He wanted to give her space but he also wanted to invade it with all the strength he had and see if she was okay. He supposed that what was really stopping him was fear, fear that he might not be welcome in her eyes anymore because she thought that his mission had been solely to help get her out of the arena and that his words at the lightning tree had meant nothing.

He wasn't afraid of her calling his bluff, because he wasn't bluffing; his words had been the truth, every last one of them. No, he was afraid that, after all they had been through, it would all count for nothing in the end to her, because he had lied about his initial reasons for getting close to her in the first place. Which of course was only half-true, because in his defense he wouldn't have had to seduce her in order to gain her trust in the Games. But still, he doubted that would matter to her, once she worked out the kinks in her brain...

He sits contemplating his situation for another few minutes, battling with himself on whether or not to check on Katniss when Gale Hawthorne emerges from the doorway and seats himself across from him in the cockpit.

He briefly looks at him before casting his eyes to the floor, and the solemn look on his face tells him that his meeting with her didn't go very well. They sit there in silence, each respecting the other's space as they mull over their own thoughts, when Gale suddenly speaks.

"...You should go to her," he says, voice low. "She needs someone who knows what she's been through."

There's contempt in his voice and he doesn't look at him as he speaks, but Finnick knows that it's just his begrudging way of being nice to the guy who almost got his best friend killed in the Games. He almost thinks better of it and stays put in his place, but knows in the long run that he won't be able to forgive himself if he doesn't at least see her before they land. Fear or not, he has to know how she's doing.

He nods to Gale, showing his appreciation, and gets up from his seat.

He swallows down the uncertainty swirling in his stomach, and without another thought, heads towards her room.

* * *

He enters with great caution, sticking his head past the automatic door frame to make sure she's not waiting with a knife or other pointy object on the other side, and after seeing that the coast is clear, steps inside.

Katniss is sitting hunched over on a medical table, facing away from him as her legs dangle over the edge.

Slowly, he approaches her, trying to keep quiet but also let her know he's there so as not to startle her, and comes to stand at the edge of the table. He stares at her hair and back, at the hospital dress that is far too big for her slender frame, and tries to decide what he should do next.

He hesitantly raises a hand to her shoulder, applying a feather-light pressure before daring to let the full weight of his limb press down on her as he swallows nervously.

"...Katniss?"

He slowly walks around the table to the side she's facing, his hand still on her shoulder as he turns, hoping to get a good look at her and gauge her expression.

But she isn't looking at him.

She's looking past him, _beyond_ him, out into space like she's surrounded by nothingness.

Like she's not _there._..

No.

No no no no.

Fear seizes him and he kneels down to look into her eyes, desperately hoping that what he's thinking isn't reality, but he sees with absolute clarity that his assumptions are true. Her eyes are cold and unfeeling and her face expressionless, and he can see that she's shut down right before his very eyes, closed herself off from the world and its problems, and he suddenly feels as if he's looking at Annie for the first time all over again.

"Katniss? _Katniss!_"

He calls her name and shakes her by the arms, knowing it's probably no use but hoping it will have some effect anyway, and tries to keep the panic he feels from reaching new heights.

"...They're dead, Finnick."

His breath catches in his throat, absolutely stunned that she's speaking to him, and after he's recovered from the shock of hearing her voice relief floods his chest and settles in his veins to comfort him.

She begins to cry, tears blurring her eyes as the reality of her words sinks in to the both of them. "They're all dead..."

Plutarch had told him about the charred remains of District 12, of how it was bombed by the Capitol and there had been but a precious few survivors. He felt bad for all of the innocent people, yes, but the realization was only just now dawning on him that it was her _home,_ the place she laughed and cried and played and grew up in, where her friends and the many people she knew were, and now it was gone. And he can only imagine what that must feel like.

He wraps his arms around her and holds her close, cradling her head as she hides her face in his shirt. Her arms hang uselessly at her sides, her slumped posture only adding to how defeated she looks, and he's eternally grateful when her hands slowly raise up to rest on his back, her trembling fingers gripping at the fabric of his clothing. He lets out a shaky breath, exhausted from the night's events, and closes his eyes as he tries to focus on the fact that it's okay, they're safe now and he has nothing to worry about, repeating it like a mantra in his mind.

_It's okay. They're safe now. _

_It's okay._

_They're safe now._

_It's okay. _

_They're safe..._

Tears slowly come to his eyes, and he fights the urge to break down completely due to the pressure that the Games and Snow and the Capitol have all put on his mind. He feels like the lowest form of low there possibly is, undeserving of even allowing himself to be held by the damaged girl in front of him. He doesn't permit himself to outright sob - although he wants to because of how_ screwed up_ everything is at the moment – deciding instead to hold it in and be strong for the broken woman that at the moment can't find it in herself to be.

He blinks his eyes free of tears and unwraps his arms from around her, staring down at her tear-streaked face, hating himself for not being able to snap her out of the pit of sadness she's let herself be dragged down into, for not better protecting her mental state. Maybe if he would have checked in on her sooner, have gone in to talk to her before Gale...

No.

That was wishful thinking and he knew it.

She would have ended up like this even if he hadn't made it aboard the same hovercraft as her.

He just had to believe it...

Letting out a sympathetic sigh, he lifts his hands to stroke the sides of her face, running his fingers down her hair and letting his palms slide against her cheeks before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. He leans his head against hers, hands still on either side of her face, and he silently vows to fix things between them.

It would be hard, but he was going to try his absolute best to be just what she needed, to hold and comfort her when the time was right and nurse her broken heart and mind back to health with nothing but his words and touch, as Peeta would do if he were here. Even if it killed him in the end. Even if he failed, it was the least he could do, the least he could possibly get by with without feeling like he should have done _more_, like he should have better repaid the debt he owed her for stealing his heart and sparing his life.

Yes.

He was definitely going to try.

And he was going to make her better.

* * *

**End Pt II.**

* * *

**A/N: So how was that? Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in a review! :D**

**I've started writing Part III, as I currently have possession of Mockingjay Pt I (the movie), so hopefully I'll be able to update again real soon :)**

**'Til next time!**


	14. Pt III: Clear to Tremor

**A/N: ****07/14/2015 Sorry for the long wait, but I've been having trouble writing Part III, especially naming the chapters. I hope everyone had a great 4th of July (assuming you celebrate it)! :D**

**Thank you very much to celohei****, Bab, colorprism**, **hunnymoonxprincesa**, **elfielovesbooks**, **Guest**, **and ****loveshay199 for your reviews :)**

**if you're fast: 7 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 13 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

**Pt III.**

* * *

Chapter fourteen: Clear to Tremor~

* * *

Her name is Katniss Everdeen.

Her home is in District 12.

She won the 74th Hunger Games.

She was in the Quarter Quell.

She escaped.

_Peeta was left behind._

These were things that Katniss kept telling herself to stay sane. Facts. Nothing but cold, unfeeling, unbending truth...truth. What was that word? Really? Could it really be described without using the word itself as an explanation? What was the point of it? Why was truth important? Or lies? Or deception? What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she think straight? Was her mind coming undone?

Wait...who was she?

"Miss Everdeen?"

She is jolted from her reverie by the sound of a woman's voice, echoing and foreign to her ears. She wants to say that this person is a stranger to her, but in her current state of mind she honestly can't say that she hasn't heard their voice before...wait, what was honesty?

"You can't be in here," the woman goes on to say.

Here.

Where was here, again?

Oh yes. District 13.

On one of the many underground levels in one of the many dark rooms, concrete and secure.

Hiding. Waiting. Rotting...falling apart.

Katniss' brain is jumbled beyond the point of recognition, even in her own mind among her own thoughts, but she is somehow able to pull together a reply for the woman she may or may not know. "I...I had a nightmare. Just five more minutes?"

"You need to sleep," the voice calls, closer this time. "We can make that happen. Please, just let us help you."

She sounds sincere, sympathetic, even. But really, with the way things have been going lately, how is she to know what's true and what's false?

"No, please, just five more minutes. I won't be any trouble."

There's nothing but silence greeting her ears, and she begins to think that maybe she'll get her wish. She relaxes her muscles and slumps back against the large set of metal pipes she's been hiding behind when a set of heavy boots march up to her and she's heaved her to her feet.

"No, please, just five more minutes!" She pleads, struggling beneath their grip. "Just five more minutes!"

More hands come and grab her, and her brain kicks into full panic mode as adrenaline rushes out from her head and into her veins, flooding her system; she kicks and twists and writhes, trying to wriggle free of their grip, but the more she fights it the more hands are on her, forcing her into submission as she's dragged from her place on the floor and back to her room. A needle punctures her skin somewhere on her arm, and with the last remaining bits of her energy she puts up one last fight to get away.

"No! Don't touch me! No, get off of me! NO!"

Her screams are the last thing she hears before everything goes black.

* * *

When she wakes up, she's in her room.

Or rather the enclosed space of the hospital she's come to call her room, tucked away in one of the many levels of District 13.

Katniss sits up, looking around at the empty space and the beeping computer screens beside her bed and on the walls, working diligently away to monitor her health and ensure her 'safety'. Except that it isn't empty in her little space, not completely; Finnick Odair sits in one of the visitor's chairs a few feet past the foot of her bed, tying endless knots in nothing but his hospital gown, and she has to blink several times to make sure he's really there and she's not just imagining things.

"...Finnick?"

It's a timid question, as she's still wary as to whether or not she's actually calling out to _him_ and not just thin air, but his hands are working too purposefully on the coil of rope in his lap and his reply is too real for it to be a facet of her imagination. Or so she hopes.

"I wanted to save Peeta and Johanna," he says quietly, not looking up at her as he ties another knot in the rope. "I wanted to go _back_ for them...they have Annie, too, you know. They took her."

His voice is calm yet broken, collected yet scattered, and she can't help but feel as though the rope in his hands is all of her heartstrings bound together, being violently tugged to and fro in order to bend to the whims of a man who, like her, has lost everything. She tries to swallow down the growing rock in her throat.

"She's in the Capitol now. With Peeta."

He stops his attempts to bend the shape of the rope, putting it down in his lap, frustrated, and gazes condescendingly at the wall to her left. Though she wishes he would look at her, she's also glad that she's not on the other end of that stare.

"...Finnick, I'm sorr-"

"I wish she was _dead_," he says, shifting his gaze to look at her. The seriousness in his eyes startles her, and she knows that, in some way, he really means it. And that scares her. "I wish they were all dead...and I wish we were, too."

She opens her mouth to say something to combat his feelings towards their situation, but really, what was the point? He was right. They _should_ be dead. They should have all been dead. It would all just be so much easier if they were all dead. And so she doesn't.

She doesn't bother to say something contradictory to his words, to try and comfort him like some newborn baby and tell him that the world was still a good place and everything was going to be alright. Because that would be a lie. And she wasn't a liar. She was done lying. They weren't in the Capitol, weren't being watched at every moment of the day for things that could be used against them. There would be no consequences for telling him how she felt here, right now. And so she does.

"...I do, too."

It's the truth, and nothing short of it. Finnick looks at her, surprised at her answer, and she pulls the covers away from her legs to swing her feet over the edge of the bed, intent on joining him on the other side of the room.

She doesn't get far; her legs give way the moment she puts her weight onto them, and she's little more than a crumpled heap on the floor in less than two seconds.

Finnick is at her side in a heartbeat, helping her up to her feet and gently pushing the covers aside to lift her back into bed, and she wonders what exactly the meds were that they gave her just before passing out in her hiding place.

"You okay?" He asks, concern etched into his brows.

Her throat seizes up and tears fill her eyes without warning, and though she knows he's referring to her physical state she can't help but let his words push past and into her heart.

She shakes her head, voice a strained croak as she struggles to reply.

"No...and I don't think I will be."

Tears slip down her cheeks and Finnick wraps his arms around her, holding her close as he rests his head atop hers and she buries her face in his chest. She squeezes her eyes shut to try and block out the wave of pain emanating from her heart, but it serves to be useless as more tears come and a sob rips from her throat. She all but soaks Finnick's hospital gown as she blubbers like a five-year-old, and as she lifts her head to rest her cheek on his shoulder and stare at the pristine glass door behind him, an idle thought comes to her.

She sniffles, quelling her tears, and squeaks weakly, "Finnick?"

"Hmm?" He hums, running his hand soothingly up and down her back. The pads of his fingers graze her spine, the bare skin exposed thanks to her awkward posture and the split in her hospital gown, and if she weren't so sad it would have sent shivers up every single one of her vertebrae – instead, she focuses even more on what has grabbed her attention enough to call him out on it.

"Aren't you only wearing a hospital gown?"

He stiffens a bit, taking in the full brunt of her words, and she waits for a reply as she stares at the door and he stares at the wall, hoping that no one will walk in and see the great Finnick Odair hugging Katniss Everdeen in her hospital bed with his backside on display for the whole world to see. She could easily look down to confirm her suspicions, but her entire face flares up at the idea and she doesn't dare. Finnick suddenly relaxes in her embrace, all tension gone, and she finds herself hanging on every word he says as though it's life or death.

"Oh, yeah. I am, aren't I? Don't worry, Fire Girl. I made sure to be _extra_ careful and tie all the strings in the back. _You_, on the other hand..."

She feels his attention shift from the wall and onto her back, and then his fingers against her skin as he takes one of the loosely-tied strings holding her gown together and pulls it gently outward to make his point. She reaches up and slaps him on the back of the head, rolling her eyes and sniffling some more before humor strikes the both of them. They laugh brokenly together, the mixed sounds of their voices echoing out into the room.

She feels miserable, but also happy at the same time. Because she's not alone; someone else shares her pain, and that someone is Finnick. The man who simultaneously stole and broke her heart, then retook it when she ended the Games, and broke it again when it was revealed that he had lied to her about everything.

The bastard. She should hate him for everything that he's done, lying to her to gain her trust and then pulling the rug out from under her feet, and in reality she does. But she's so tired that she can't bring herself to, not at the moment. Maybe if Peeta were there, alive and well and with her in Finnick's place _right now_...but then again it's Peeta's absence that she's most angry about in the first place. And to tell the truth, she could sit here all day, thinking about all the things that have happened to her and all the terrible people who have done her wrong, but she doesn't want to.

Because she's exhausted, and tired and sad and Finnick's right there to make sure she's okay. And really, what kind of fool would she be to reject such unconditional support? Who was she to push away the one person willing to put up with her, to hold and comfort her in her time of need?

"...Katniss?" Finnick whispers. He takes his time finishing his question, even though she's given her silent consent for him to ask it, and the long bout of silence that passes over them makes her tense and guarded for what exactly it is that he wants to know. "Have...have I lost you forever?"

She thinks really hard about this. She knows what he's asking: whether or not she can forgive him for deceiving her and leaving Peeta in the arena to die, both of which are extremely high on her personal no-no list.

On the one hand, she could easily crush him with just a few words - hell, even one word - and she'd be lying if she said it wouldn't bring her any satisfaction; it _would_ bring her satisfaction, to know that she had hurt him as much as he had hurt her, to bring him unimaginable, unbearable pain for having tricked her and left Peeta behind. But she'd also be lying if she told him just that. So, she tells him the only thing that she can, which is the truth.

"...No. Not forever."

The tension that leaves his muscles at her words are felt clear through her hospital gown, but she isn't quite so merciful as to let him walk away unscathed.

"Just for now."

She doesn't dare call it 'love', what they share. She's past that now. But she's willing to bet on friendship, if nothing else. She may never be able to bring herself to trust another human being that doesn't identify as her sister or Peeta or Gale, and she knows she won't ever be able to put her full trust in the man holding her now, but she doesn't want things to be forever hostile between them, either.

It's a long shot, but she vows that she will make things better, to help mend the rift that has thus far succeeded in tearing them apart and maybe get back to the point where they had been before the Quell, before all of this. Mutual acquaintances. Nothing more, nothing less.

It hurts her, but the best thing for them right now is to just try and start over. To wipe the slate clean and start anew, forgetting everything that had ever happened and just stay friends. And she would. She'd try, at least. But not right now. She couldn't bear it, could never bring herself to try and love the person partially responsible for Peeta's likely death, even if just in a platonic sense. But she would get over it. She had to. And when she did, she would make it her life's mission to let go of the pain and hatred she wrongly held for him, for everyone. Just not today.

They remain in their places, trying not to think about what lay just outside the pale and sterile walls of her hospital room, and even less of what was to become of them in the days ahead.

* * *

**A/N: Not sure when I'll be able to update again, as I am still in the process of putting all of the other chapters together and trying to decide what to leave in and what to gloss over, but I'll try and get my ducks in a row as soon as possible.**

**Also, VERY important question for you guys: what should I do about Peeta? Should I kill him in Finnick's place where he died in the books, or let him live and form a close and possibly romantic bond with Annie? Or something else entirely? Share your thoughts!**

**'Til next time!**


	15. Pt III: Tremor to Quake

**A/N: 07/23/2015 Back with another chapter! :D**

**Big thanks to everyone who gave their opinion on what to do with Peeta! I've already decided what's going to happen to him and I hope I don't disappoint :)**

**Also big thanks to Live4themusic for pointing out my tiny error in the previous chapter. It has since been fixed ;)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 15 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 25 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter fifteen: Tremor to Quake~

* * *

Life in District 13 is very bland.

Or so Finnick comes to learn.

There is next to nothing to do there, no television to watch or expensive toys to mess with - not even a group of cheeky old ladies to entertain. All the people he came into contact with were boring and dull, cookie-cutter men and women in faded brown jumpsuits that couldn't be told apart from one another, let alone bothered to entertain a bored Victor; it was sad, really. Coin had forbade him from doing any actual work, saying that the citizens of District 13 could handle any laborious tasks that needed done on their own and that, as an asset, he needed to be protected from any possible harm. Needless to say, he didn't bother asking if he could go outside; God forbid if he wanted some vitamin D or a breath of fresh air.

So, with nowhere to be and nothing else to do, he explored. After all, with an underground facility containing forty different levels (or something or other) he was bound to find _something_ interesting. And so he hopped onto the first elevator he could find, and began his journey across the first floor.

He overhears the most interesting things as he walks, passing the district natives who seem to have plenty of down-time for people who had been described as 'very busy' by President Coin. He learns that no one much cares for Effie Trinket, that Prim is an exceptional assistant at the hospital, and that Katniss has been taken to District 12 to see what had become of it - apparently she had refused to become Coin's Mockingjay, and Plutarch had convinced her to let the distraught teen visit the remaining ashes of her old home.

He was angry when he had first heard this, furious, even; what did they honestly hope to accomplish by allowing her to set foot in her old district, to stain her eyes with the images of demolished buildings and the lifeless bodies of people she used to know, and why hadn't he been told such a decision had been made in the first place? Didn't they know that it would only damage her further? That it could only prove to pull her deeper into insanity?

Rage sparked inside him, and he just barely stopped himself from marching right up to Coin and reprimanding her poor judgment. It took him a while, but his overly emotional state eventually subsided for something more rational, for which he was all too thankful.

_Wait a minute_, he told himself. _This was_ Katniss _he was talking about. The girl who had lit the world on fire with nothing but a designer dress and some cheap flames. She had been to Hell and back twice, and survived. She could handle impossible odds, and had done so many times. Why should he be worried about what a short trip to her home district would do to her? _

Oh, the things we learn from our travels. So bothersome. He should have just stayed in his hospital bed all day and hit on the bitchy nurse that brought him food every two hours. It would have certainly beat worrying himself to death over whether or not the girl he had sworn to protect had delved further into madness.

What should he expect when she got back? _If_ she got back? He was so foolish. He should have kept a better eye on her. He had thought it best to give her her space but he saw now that that was the last thing he should be doing; damned girl couldn't keep her feet planted in one place if she tried.

He decides in the end not to do anything, telling himself that calling Coin or Plutarch out on their reckless behavior regarding Katniss' whereabouts and mental state would do little to help her now, seeing as she was probably already looking at the atrocities the Capitol had committed this very second, and she'll probably come out a stronger person because of it, maybe even agree to help them take down Snow.

He tells himself all of these things and more to keep himself sane while he twiddles his thumbs and waits anxiously for her to come back, and he realizes that the reasons he's listed thus far to himself are far more likely than any other crazy scenario he could ever conjure up.

But it doesn't stop him from being angry.

And it doesn't stop him from worrying.

* * *

He nearly leaps for joy when he hears she's returned.

He rushes to the hangar harboring the hovercraft she was aboard, only to find that she isn't there and that he missed her by five minutes. Cursing under his breath, he runs around like a parent who's lost track of their mentally unstable child, checking the mess hall and hospital and every other possible place she could be, before finally finding success.

He finds her in the living quarters, in the room she shares with her mother and Prim, watching from some distance away as she hands a photo and a few bottles of herbs to her mother, and suddenly he's furious.

He walks briskly up to her with purpose, not bothering to be invited in as he invades her temporary home and waits impatiently for her to notice him. Prim's wary gaze is the only thing that keeps him from snapping completely, as well as the only thing that makes Katniss turn towards him, oblivious to his presence.

The happy look on her face fades as he sends her a hard look, and he smiles tightly at Prim as he asks permission to speak with her sister. "Excuse me, Prim, but would you mind if I borrowed Katniss for a while? I really need to speak with her about something."

Katniss sends him a questioning look as Prim nods her consent, and he flashes her a toothy smile before grabbing the older girl's arm and dragging her out into the hall.

He doesn't take her far – just around the corner and away from prying ears – but the short distance of time that passes is enough to spike his anger and push him past the point of being civil. He releases her arm once they're out of earshot from Prim and any passersby, and lets loose before she can even think to protest.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asks simply, though he knows the anger in his voice is evident enough to warrant her most serious of glares.

"Wha..._excuse_ me?" She asks, brows furrowing as she tries to recover from his brashness.

"You know what I mean," he says, insistent. "I'm referring to your little field trip to District 12."

Her cheeks flush, and it immediately becomes clear that she is embarrassed. "I...you weren't supposed to know about that," is all she says, purposefully averting her gaze.

"I know," he smiles, voice tight. "Because I had to find out about it through a couple of gossiping district workers. People I didn't even _know_."

She continues to look away from him, and starts to fidget under his gaze before mustering a reply. "...Look, I needed to see what happened and you wouldn't have let me go if you knew, so-"

"So what?" He asks, challenging her. "You thought it would be okay if you went out and risked your life to see a bunch of dilapidated buildings and rotting corpses? What Finnick doesn't know won't kill him, right?"

"What is _with_ you?" She asks, anger rising at his crude description of her home. "You've had _nothing_ to do with me ever since we got out of the hospital!"

"Yeah, because I didn't think you were going to do anything _stupid_," he shoots back, ready to say more until she interrupts him.

"So why bother to care now? Do you have some sort of hero complex to fill for me now that Peeta's gone? Do you feel like you have to step up and shield me from danger? That you'll somehow be a better _man_ because of it?!"

He wants to rebuff her, to deflect her words and let them ricochet off the walls of their boxed-in conversation and continue their fight because this is the most he's talked to her in a while and with the way things are going it'll probably be a long time before it happens again, but he can't because she's hit the nail right on the head. And rather than deny the truth to her accusations and leave her in the dark, he does just the opposite.

She's going to get the truth, he decides.

Whether she likes it or not.

"That's _exactly_ how I feel! Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to deal with the fact that Peeta and Johanna are gone?! That _Annie's_ gone?! Because_ I_ wasn't good enough to save them?!" She looks at him with shock and surprise, and he has to pause to lower his voice so he can continue.

"_You_ are my one chance to make things right," he says, eyes pleading. "To _finally_ be able to do something good for once. I know I've hurt you. I know I've lied. I know I've done things that are probably unforgivable in your eyes..." She looks away and blinks back a few oncoming tears, and he gently yet hesitantly takes her face in his hands. "But I won't stop trying."

She looks at him then, eyes alight with shock and surprise of an entirely different kind from before and for entirely different reasons, and, above all, interest in what he has to say. This is his chance, his one chance to smooth things over between them after all of the harsh words they'd exchanged just seconds before, and he's not about to waste it.

"I'll _never_ stop trying to be someone you can trust, someone you can count on, someone you can call your friend. And you can hate me, hit me, curse me, drag my name through the mud, I don't care; but I am going to do everything I can to keep you safe for as long as I live, no matter how much you don't want me to. And _that's_ a promise."

Her face is a contortion of pain and sadness and conflict as she stares at him, and he's hanging on by a thread as he waits for her to process and react to what he's just said, what he's just laid out bare for her to pick through and scrutinize. He realizes that he's put her in a tight spot, urging her to choose right here and now whether or not she'll let him in and give him another chance to be her friend or anything even _remotely_ close to anything more, but he doesn't care. Because he's impatient, and he needs an answer now. And he can't handle standing idly by while she passes him every day, not knowing what she's thinking of him at any given moment. It's been torture this far, and it's torture now.

He waits, looking pleadingly into her eyes as he stares at the warring emotions playing deep behind her silver irises, mouth going dry with apprehension and breath stopping short with suspense, and the answer he gets is anything but the one he'd been hoping for. Katniss tears herself away from him and runs away, disappearing behind the corner without so much as a glance back.

She leaves.

And he doesn't stop her.

* * *

Katniss exhales slowly as she pokes at her food tray and avoids the gaze of her best friend, Gale, who is sitting beside her in the cafeteria.

She thinks of Peeta and her situation, of Finnick and his last words to her at their last meeting, and of how she ran away.

Like a _coward_.

She ran like her life depended on it, the adrenaline building in her veins until she thought she might have a heart attack before she stopped in a random hallway and started to hyperventilate in her panic. She had even cried a bit, the overwhelming shock and confusion as to why she was feeling the way she did coming to a rather unsightly head before Gale found her and took her to the mess hall to get something to eat. He probably thought she was crying over Peeta or the Games. He couldn't be more wrong.

She sits beside him on the bench seat, staring mindlessly at the food Gale had picked out for her while she listens to him eat and tries to avoid noticing the growing awkwardness between them the longer they sit in silence.

"...You should eat something," Gale says suddenly, voice just above a whisper.

Though he's stating the obvious, she can't bring herself to slam him with a hurtful comment because he's her best friend and he's only trying to help her. She knows she's probably worrying everyone sick right now, moping around and not eating, not talking. But the people closest to her should know by now that it's just her way of coping with the stress and pain and sadness and anger that she's had to deal with ever since leaving the arena, and if they really care about her they'll stop trying to pry in her business.

As she stabs at her peas and mashed potatoes for no other reason than to let Gale _think_ she's eventually going to eat something, she finds it funny that she was more mentally and emotionally stable _in_ the Games than she was out of them.

She looks up at her best friend to say something along the lines of she's not hungry, but is interrupted by a flickering light and snowy noise coming from one of the mounted televisions on one the pillars in the cafeteria.

Caesar Flickerman's face appears, and everyone stands up from their seats to watch the message that is for some reason important enough to be broadcast throughout every district.

"Hello, and good evening. I am Caesar Flickerman. And whoever you are, whatever you're doing, _stop._ Because you're going to want to witness this tonight. Now, as you all know, there has been _much_ speculation regarding what really happened in the Quarter Quell. So, here to shed some light on the subject for us is a very special guest. Please welcome...Mr. Peeta Mellark."

Katniss gasps, and the tears that she had only just recently forced to subside are returning full-force as she brings a hand up to her mouth in shock and awe.

Peeta is shown sitting across from Caesar, looking just as she remembered but somehow different. This boy, whom she had been grieving for the past few weeks, was still breathing. Still alive. The sheer force of it all made her head swim and her legs weak, and yet all she could do was move closer to the vibrant image of the young man she'd thought to be dead for the longest time.

The camera cuts to Caesar, who begins asking Peeta questions about the Quell and what really happened, but she can't find the will to focus on any of the words that are said. All the noise and voices fade to the background, pushed away to the edges of her senses and blurring into unintelligible sounds because _he's_ _alive_ and she just can't get over it. The fact is so intense and unbelievable that she is speechless, dumbfounded and stupified to the point where she almost forgets her surroundings and where she is, forgets that she can't run out of the room and throw her arms around him to make sure that he's real.

And suddenly her fight with Finnick doesn't matter, and she feels terrible for leaving him in the midst of what was probably his first and last heartfelt confession he's ever made to another human being.

Another wave of tears sting at her eyes, and she wants nothing more than to get out of there and go find Finnick and apologize. But she can't. Because Peeta's still talking, and the District 13 workers in the cafeteria are getting angry, and she doesn't even know why because she hasn't been paying attention.

"I want everyone to lay down their weapons immediately."

Peeta's face is somber and resolute, and for the longest of moments she can't for the life of her connect the words he's spoken to his moving mouth, because that's not something Peeta would ever say. It's as if they're coming from someone else's lips, but she knows with a sad clarity that it's not the case.

"Peeta," Caesar says hesitantly, sounding shocked. "Are you...calling a _ceasefire?_"

Peeta is silent for a long time, and an eternity's worth of anxious heartbeats pass before he replies.

"...Yeah. I am."

His voice echoes throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and ringing in her ears before being lost in the outraged shouts and cries of the district workers, all shouting that he's a traitor to his district and his people.

Unable to take any more, Katniss turns around and dashes out of the cafeteria, not bothering to look at Gale and let him know where she's going as she breaks into a run and heads towards the elevators, intent on getting to the living quarters as soon as possible. She feels like she's going to be sick, but she also feels happy, because she's about to fix things between her and Finnick, and make things right again.

She runs inside the elevator and slams the button for the level she wants, breaths coming hard and fast as she leans against the corner of the enclosed metal box and waits for the ancient piece of machinery to obey her command.

...No.

Not right, she decides. But better.

Things may never be truly 'right' between them again, not really, but that doesn't mean that she isn't willing to try and repair at least some of the damage that's been dealt between them. She owes it to herself. She owes it to _him._

Because even though she can't bring herself to forgive him, not yet, she can't say that he hasn't been one hundred percent sincere in the lengths he's gone to protect her. She might not be standing here right now if it weren't for him, and then Peeta would most certainly be dead.

And as much as she doesn't want to admit it, as much as she wants to say that she's squashed that part of her, there's still a semblance of something she feels toward him, something resembling more than just an understanding or friendship for the man with the sea-green eyes and bronze hair. She had kept it buried until now, even convincing herself that it didn't exist, but her bluff was now called, and by _herself_, nonetheless.

Yes, she still felt a sliver of affection for the man who spoke with the utmost confidence and charmed her to no end. Which she supposed was part of the reason she hated him. Because he had taken a part of her that she could never get back. She wouldn't condemn him for it, though. After all, it was equally her fault just as much as it was his.

And now...now that she _knew_ her teammate wasn't lying dead in a box somewhere six feet below the surface of the earth (or worse) she could find little reason legitimate enough to stay angry at him. And she wouldn't. Angry as she may be, she still doesn't want things to be irreparable between them, to be _those_ two people who walked into a room together and never spoke, despite the fact that they only knew each other amongst the countless crowds of people. No, that wasn't meant to be them. She would make sure of it.

Katniss sighs to herself, wishing that the elevator could move at a faster pace as she ascended to the living quarters, tapping her foot with impatience. Her feelings of sickness grow the closer she gets, anxiousness imploding in her stomach until she thinks she might have to keel over and puke, and the fear that her daring attempt to save what little she had left of her and Finnick's relationship failing didn't help, either. But it didn't change her mind, wasn't going to scare her into letting things fall apart completely between them. She wouldn't allow it.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, and she stepped out onto the pale cement of the 25th floor to begin her search for the confusing and elusive Finnick Odair. She didn't know what would happen when she found him, exactly, but she knew that she wasn't going to give up until they were able to walk away on good terms.

She owes him that much.

* * *

She gets to Finnick's room both faster and slower than she'd wanted to, and finds herself standing awkwardly outside his door as she tries to decide whether or not to go in.

The thick steel slab of metal emanates an energy that clearly translates to 'don't come in here', but the excitement and adrenaline quickly overcomes her sudden case of cold feet and she's knocking on the door a moment later.

She wants to just barge in and tell him what she so desperately wants to, but she knows that at this point in their already fragile relationship it probably wouldn't be wise. She waits, hoping with all her might that he'll be there and that he won't slam the door in her face after what she did, and tries to fend off the growing feelings of uncertainty crawling up her back.

The door opens, and she lets go of the tense breath she's been holding as Finnick comes into view.

She draws in a sharp breath, almost gasping when she sees his face; he looks absolutely defeated, as though the whole world has been reduced to ashes and everyone and everything he ever knew and loved is now dead. She would hate to see him if that were truly the case.

She hesitates in opening her mouth, as the sheer sight of him is enough to put her at a loss for words, and she's suddenly afraid that nothing she says could ever counter the look on his face, the look that _she_ caused. But in the end, she decides to gamble on it anyway, because the thought of him thinking ill of her for the rest of their days is sickening enough to put her into action, no matter the consequences. She blinks back her uncertainty and says the first thing that comes to mind.

"Did you hear about Peeta? He's alive."

His eyes spark, a tiny flicker that lights his eyes and lasts for no more than a mere millisecond before it's masked by a more neutral expression, but it's enough for her to try again and reach through to him, if only to see it once more.

"...I'm sorry about what I did. I shouldn't have run away from you. It was wrong of me and I never should have left without giving you some kind of answer." She pauses to gauge his reaction, and she decides that it's going well enough for her to continue her carefully thought out apology. "I don't...I don't _want_ there to be bad blood between us. That's the _last_ thing I want. And I'm not ready to...I can't call you anything more, but...I'm willing to call you a friend, if you'll accept it."

She exhales and waits with bated breath as she anticipates Finnick's reply, trying not to fidget under his gaze.

Everything that they are weighs on this moment, and as much as she would like to say otherwise, it terrifies her. He could so easily reject her, turn her away and never look back, just as she had done to him. He could ruin everything they had built, break her without even trying. And though it's selfish, she hopes that he'll show her mercy.

He stares her down with the most intense look she's ever seen him wear, and as the seconds drag on she begins to think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. And maybe it wasn't. Maybe she should have just left him alone for a while, steered clear and allowed him to gather his thoughts. Maybe she should have waited longer before showing her face around him again. Maybe-

She's stumbling over herself and ushering out another apology before she's even fully aware of it, giving him the option to opt out if he so wishes because, really, she never expected to get this far in the first place.

"Look, you don't have to say anything now if you don't want, it's fi-"

He's pulling her into a hug before she can finish her sentence, and her mind goes completely blank for a few seconds before she can fully register what's going on.

She stands there awkwardly wrapped in his embrace, arms crumpled between their chests with her fingers at odd angles and her chin digging into his collarbone as he holds her tight, and after her initial shock has subsided she slowly moves her arms to circle around his back and rests her head against his shoulder, letting the happiness and relief she feels overwhelm her to the point of tears. She begins to cry.

"Thank you," he whispers, his shaky breath fanning her hair.

_Thank you for giving me a second chance._

"You're welcome," she croaks, smiling as she gives a light sob.

_Thank you for letting me._

They hug each other as if the world has ended. And in a sense, maybe it has. But that doesn't change the three very important facts that have presented themselves to her, facts that could save their lives, and save thousands of other's lives as well.

Peeta was alive.

And maybe...just maybe...she could start to love again.

Maybe she could forgive.

* * *

**A/N: I don't actually know what floors have what on them in District 13, so I hope I didn't make a grievous mistake in placing the living quarters on the 25****th**** floor. I've got 2 other chapters fully written that haven't been posted yet, but I'm going to wait a bit before I upload them. From the looks of it, Part III will have about 10 chapters.**

**As always, I'd love to see your thoughts on this chapter, so don't hesitate to leave a review if you're already thinking about it! :)**

**'Til next time!**


	16. Pt III: Quake to Aftershock

**A/N: 08/01/2015 I think this is the longest chapter yet...yeah. It is. 8,582 words; yikes!**

**Thank you to SesethuTee, XenaTheDog, Live4theMusic, Decepticonsniper, celohei, Guest, and bab for your reviews :)**

**bab: There's really no need to reread the whole thing again. Most of the changes were just typos and fixes to overall structure. The biggest change I made was back at the end of chapter 4 where Katniss asks Finnick about Annie. So other than that, you're good ;)**

**Live4theMusic: Thank you SO much for pointing out those mistakes in the previous chapter. You're a lifesaver and I really appreciate it :)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 26 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 45 mins or less (wow!).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter sixteen: Quake to Aftershock~

* * *

Adrenaline spikes her veins, eyes shooting open as she scrambles into a sitting position on her bed, breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as her bloodshot eyes frantically scan the room, terrified.

She begins to realize that she's in her room and not in any imminent danger when Finnick comes bursting through the door, out of breath and eyes wide with alarm.

"Katniss? Are you okay?" He asks, running his eyes over her for signs of injury or distress.

Her embarrassment at having been heard clear across the hall is _immense_, and she scrambles for an excuse to get him out of there as fast as possible. "Uh...y- yeah. Yeah, i- it was just a nightmare."

He relaxes, understanding dawning on his face. "Oh. Well...don't worry about it. I get 'em all the time, too. It's nothing to be ashamed about."

He stands in the doorway, staring at her as though he expects her to say more, and when she doesn't, he turns on his heel to leave.

"Wait," she says suddenly, retracting her arm just in time so he doesn't see her reaching out to him. "C- could you...w- would you mind..." She doesn't know why, but she can't get the words out. He seems genuinely curious of her request, but she doesn't dare take it as encouragement as she decides to abandon her silly idea. "...Never mind. It's stupid."

"No," he says firmly, stepping back inside and coming closer. "No, it's not. Whatever it is, _it's not_. Now what is it?"

The gentleness in his tone makes her face soften and her muscles lax, and though she'd been so sure just moments before that she wouldn't tell him, she decides to take a chance and do just that.

"Can...can you...stay with me?"

He pinches his eyebrows and blinks at her, as though he doesn't fully understand her request or hasn't heard her right, and she immediately begins to blush in shame, resisting the urge to pull the covers over her head and hide like a five-year-old. She opens her mouth and prepares to give him an out, not daring to look him in the eye, when-

"Sure."

She looks up at him, shocked, and upon seeing the expression on her face, Finnick repeats himself to save her the trouble of wondering whether or not her mind is playing tricks on her.

"Sure," he says again, nodding. "Yeah, of course."

She proceeds to stare into space, absolutely stunned that he's even agreed to her petty, selfish request, and before she knows it he's sliding into bed next to her. He slips beneath the covers and lies down, and she numbly follows suit, lowering herself down and resting her head on the pillow they now both share.

They stare at each other, each lying on their sides as they try to get over the sudden awkwardness that fills the room. It's Finnick that makes the first move to do so; he reaches over and brushes a stray curl behind her ear, and suddenly he's pulling her closer and she's letting him, because in all honesty the nightmares have been far too life-like lately and she needs this, needs to be comforted and needs to feel safe, even if said safety is nothing more than a falsity.

She buries her face in the crook of his shoulder and wraps her arms around him, and he in turn does the same to her.

The feeling of there being danger at every turn slowly dissipates, and she's left with the slow and steady assurance that she's safe and there's nothing to worry about, that everything is all butterflies and rainbows and glasses that are half-full, and she relishes the almost foreign feeling of being at peace.

"Katniss?"

If only dreams were so kind.

Katniss slowly awakes from her slumber, eyes gradually focusing on the image of her sister, Prim, who at some point in the night decided to leave the comfort of the bed she and their mother shared to go and wake her up.

"What is it, Little Duck?" She asks tiredly, blinking slowly into focus as her little sister climbs into bed with her.

"You were mumbling in your sleep," the blonde explained.

Her face pales at her words, and all she can really say is, "...Oh."

"You can tell me what's happening, you know," Prim goes on to whisper, as though her previous statement was no big deal. "I'm good at keeping secrets, even from mom."

Katniss chuckles, grinning at her little sister's maturity and attentiveness. She sighs, knowing that it probably wouldn't hurt to spill her inner thoughts and worries to the one person she knows won't go spurting it out to everyone else, and decides to humor her, if only for a little bit.

"Well...I can't stand what the Capitol is doing," she begins, keeping her voice low so as not to wake their mother. "And I want to help with the rebellion. But...I just keep thinking that, even if we win, Peeta and the others aren't safe. I know they're not safe there, but they're definitely not safe here, either. And then when they _are_ rescued...I just don't know what to do."

"...I don't think you realize how important you are to them," Prim says after a while. "You're The Mockingjay, the _face_ of the rebellion. You could demand almost _anything_ and they'd _have_ to give it to you."

Katniss pinches her brows, impressed with her sister's wisdom. She's right. She _could_ ask for almost anything and they'd have to agree to it, if they wanted their rebellion. Which they most certainly did. President Coin was a very goal-oriented woman, and hell-bent on taking down the Capitol. Maybe she could save Peeta after all.

"I should talk to you more often, Little Duck," she says endearingly, reaching over and brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Prim smiles, glad to be of help, and says, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replies, smiling back.

They lay in silence for a few moments, when a sudden thought hits her.

"Hey...what do you think of Finnick?"

The question seems to surprise the both of them, though Prim looks more curious than shocked.

"He's okay," she says after a while, eyes drifting up in thought. "We don't really see each other much, but he's always been nice to me. Why? What do you think of him?"

She opens her mouth, intent on replying, but ultimately shakes her head as she admits, "...I don't know. I honestly don't know. There was a time when I thought I did, but...I just don't know."

Prim nods, as though understanding her dilemma, and after a few more seconds of silence she says, "I don't think I'll ever get married. Boys are too much drama."

Katniss laughs at that, bringing a hand up to her mouth when the sound comes out too loud. "I know I'm not the best example for relationships, Little Duck, but, you shouldn't give up on boys just because of what I'm going through. It could be a completely different experience for you."

"I don't know," she says doubtfully. "You've got Gale, Peeta, _and_ Finnick in love with you at the same time, _plus_ a rebellion to deal with. I don't think I could handle all that."

"Finnick's not in love with me," she says, smiling uncertainly as she shakes her head and averts her eyes.

"Yes he is," Prim counters easily. "I can tell by the way he looks at you."

She sighs. "Prim..."

"No, seriously," she says, insistent. "He looks at you the same way Gale and Peeta do, only a little different."

"Different?" Katniss echoes. "Different how?"

She is quick to elaborate. "Well, I can't really explain it, but...there's just something..._deeper_, in the way he looks at you. More meaningful, I think."

Katniss exhales and slowly blinks, suddenly tired. "...Get some sleep, Little Duck. You need it."

She shifts into a more comfortable position on the bed and Prim smiles, the slightest hint of smugness in her expression.

"You're welcome."

* * *

As it turns out, she is able to get what she wants.

It takes some effort on her part, but she eventually convinces President Coin to find and rescue Peeta, Johanna, and Annie at the soonest opportunity, as well as grant them immunity for any and all crimes they've committed against the districts. She even convinced her to let Prim keep her cat. And though she's never been one to gloat, she does feel pretty proud of herself for accomplishing these things.

Coin had almost immediately issued a mandatory meeting in the atrium, going as far as to temporarily cut everyone off from their work schedules to give her speech announcing Katniss' agreement to be The Mockingjay and the terms for which she was doing so.

Katniss stands alongside Prim in a sea of countless others looking up at the grey-haired woman delivering her speech, and though she knows she should really try and make an effort to focus on the words being said, she can't seem to think of anything else but Finnick.

Ever since they had regained their friendship, Finnick had been acting...strange.

Maybe that wasn't the right word to describe it.

He had been overly polite and civil towards her every time they crossed paths, which was getting to be more and more often now that they both left their rooms on a regular basis. She couldn't even remember the last time she heard a provocative comment leave his lips. And she could hardly stand it.

She wanted the _old_ Finnick back, the one with the cocky grins and perverted pick-up lines and suggestive looks that strutted around like he owned the place and nothing could possibly bring him down. She never thought she would say it, let alone _think_ it, but it was true. She missed the way he had been before. She couldn't quite pin it down, but there was just something about him that seemed defeated, like he'd been beaten down into this poor, sad heap of timid smiles and reluctant eye contact and she didn't like it. She admired his confidence, almost to a fault; it was what had attracted her to him in the first place. And now it was gone.

She supposed that part of the reason could be because he was afraid of losing her again, of doing or saying something to set her off and thus causing her to cut him out of her life for good. Which of course was very probable. She didn't blame him for that. After all, if anyone would know just how sensitive and touchy she could be, it was her. But still, she wished he'd be more..._lively!_ It was already bland enough in District 13 as it was, but with Finnick acting the way he was it was almost unbearable. It was all she could do sometimes to keep from just slapping him.

She sighs to herself, remembering the dream she'd had last night.

That dream..._ugh, why did she have that dream?! _

_Why did her brain have to torture her with silly fantasies that could never be?_

It wasn't fair...

Irritated with her own thoughts, she turns her attention away from President Coin to stare out at the crowd around her. She spots Finnick a few rows away, looking up uninterestedly at the old woman on the podium, and her heart gives a single, powerful thump as she stares at his sad face.

She grows anxious the longer she stares, and try as she might, she just can't help herself; she leaves her sister's side to go join him, trying not to be noticed or get in anyone's way as she makes her way over to the young bronze-haired man.

"Finnick," she whispers insistently, not looking at him as she takes her place by his side. "I made the deal for Annie, too."

Annie's name passes through Coin's lips just as she's finished talking, and the District 13 President goes on to say that all of the Victors rescued will be granted amnesty from any and all crimes committed against the rebel cause.

She spares a glance at Finnick, trying to gauge his reaction to what she's just said, but gets little more than a blink and a blank stare. She had hoped he'd be more responsive to her statement. After all, Annie had been his whole _world_ before she had come along and ruined it for him.

She looks away, beginning to feel worried.

That should have caught his attention. If anything was going to get him going again, it should have been-

"Good."

Her gaze snaps to Finnick, mouth nearly falling open as she tries to process the single word he's miraculously spoken.

He looks down at her, gazing into her eyes with a shocking enthusiasm as he smiles and reiterates what he's just said.

"That's good, Katniss."

She nods, numbly turning her head to look back up at Coin, and slowly realizes that this is the first she's seen him truly smile since arriving in District 13.

She tries to smile herself – she should be happy that some spark of Finnick's old self is resurfacing – but fails miserably to do so. Because now _she's_ not happy. She wants to justify a smile by saying that he's happy because of her, because of the good news she's brought to him, but she knows that that isn't the case; he's happy because of _Annie_, because the girl he's known and loved for an immeasurable amount of time will be rescued soon.

His smile has nothing to do with her, the broken District 12 girl whose fire had long since burned out. And really, why _would_ he want anything to do with her? She was nowhere near as beautiful as Annie, didn't have perfect skin or sparkling eyes or bright red hair. And she _sure_ as hell didn't have a great personality.

She and Finnick may have recently rekindled their friendship, but that didn't say anything about their love lives. It was her own fault, she supposed; she had told him that they couldn't be anything more, that they could only be friends, if that. But in her defense she had never imagined that it would have such a deep impact on her psyche and their relationship overall. And it was true; now that Annie and Peeta were going to be rescued, they really couldn't keep doing what they had been doing in the Games, and even before that. She doesn't like it – regrets it, even – but it's too late for anything resembling remorse for the clear boundaries she had already laid out for them.

She knows it's stupid, selfish, and absolutely dumb of her to think so, but she doesn't like the thought of another person making Finnick happy. She doesn't want there to be anyone else that makes him smile the way he just did. Nobody but-

She blinks rapidly and shakes her head, willing herself to stop dwelling on such a silly subject, and looks back up at Coin for the remainder of her speech.

_But her._

There was no use stewing about something that was already set in stone. No logical reason to go back on the promise she had made to herself and Finnick; things would never go as far between them as they had gone during the Quell. They couldn't. They _wouldn't._

She may have regretted it, may have secretly wished that she had never made such a decision so soon, but the fact remained; she had made her bed.

And now she had to lie in it.

She stands beside Finnick as she waits to be dismissed, trying not to acknowledge just how much the tiny truth behind the reason for his smile bothers her.

* * *

After the announcement, Gale insisted that they go out to eat in celebration of Katniss' becoming The Mockingjay – 'out to eat' meaning a quick visit to the cafeteria while no one else was there to bother them.

So she, Gale, Prim, her mother, Effie, and Finnick found themselves in the mess hall, all enjoying the bland District 13 food that suddenly didn't seem so bland and having animated conversations about dull topics that suddenly didn't seem so dull. As the minutes dragged on, Katniss began to feel less apprehensive and more enthusiastic about her new position in the rebellion.

But then Gale decided to speak.

"Hey, Finnick, you mind perking up a bit? You're killing the mood."

Finnick looks up from his untouched tray of food, and Katniss snaps out of her own happy reverie to stare disbelievingly at her friend.

"_Excuse_ me?" She asks, knitting her brows together and widening her eyes; _did she really hear that right?_

"What?" Gale asks innocently. "It's true! He's a downer."

She stands up at this, and Finnick timidly begins to try and defuse the situation.

"Oh, uh...I- I'm sorry. I- I can go-"

Katniss moves her arm out in front of him, signalling him to stop talking as she stares hard at Gale. "No, Finnick. By all means; _stay_."

She says it in a reproachful manner, as though she's trying to taunt Gale by keeping him within their group, which she is. She doesn't know why, but she feels it's her duty to stick up for Finnick. Maybe it's because he's been feeling down as of late, or maybe it's just that he's been through the same things she has and is therefore the only person within this entire damn district that has even an inkling of what she herself feels, but she really doesn't give it that much thought as she jumps to his defense.

Gale pinches his eyebrows together and squints, as though utterly confused, and sputters, "What's your _problem?"_

"MY problem?!" She yells, glaring at him from across the table. "What's yours?_ You're_ the one being a complete jerk and making him feel like crap! And for what?! Just so you can feel 'superior'? I don't think so!"

Her friend looks absolutely taken aback, and no one sitting at the table dares to make any noise as they avoid eye contact and wait tensely to see how the surprising turn their little 'group conversation' has taken ends.

Gale blinks repeatedly and shakes his head, baffled. "_What?!_ Katniss, he's a...Capitol _Playboy! _Why are you defending him?!"

She doesn't even have to think about her answer. "Because _somebody_ has to!"

Her nostrils flare and her lips purse in absolute fury, and it's only when she remembers Prim and her mother and Effie and where they are that she unclenches her fists and relaxes her posture.

"...I need to go. Plutarch wanted me to be shooting propos by now. Sorry, Prim."

She lifts her legs out of the bench seat and turns around, not bothering to take her food tray with her. She's so angry at Gale that she just can't even be around him right now, and though she doesn't want to leave the rest of her family and friends in a bad mood, she simply can't find it in herself to sit back down at that table and carry on as if nothing ever happened, as if _Gale_ never happened.

She leaves, never noticing the pair of shocked sea-green eyes that follow after her.

* * *

As fate would have it, she isn't a very talented actress.

The animated propos that Plutarch had tried to have her do were a complete and total flop, an utter failure in and of themselves. It was Haymitch of all people who saved her; he suggested to Coin that she and Plutarch send her out into the field of battle to make sure her 'insipring war speech' looked believable. She would have never thought that her drunken Mentor (now sober) would make the difference between saving Peeta and the others and leaving them to die just because she couldn't keep up her end of the deal.

Coin had miraculously agreed to send her out into the very dangerous and very life-threatening battlefield of District 8 upon the advice of her Mentor, and before she knew it, Katniss was being ushered into the armory with Gale and Beetee to prepare for their journey. She was still angry with Gale for saying what he'd said to Finnick, but she realized that the task at hand was more important than her petty grudge towards him and, in the long run, insignificant to the cause of the rebellion.

She kept her mouth shut about it.

But that didn't mean she would forget.

"I've been busy lately," Beetee says jovially, wheeling himself over to a nearby table with various weapons laid out on it. "I've got a few surprises for you."

Katniss smiles at the overly-enthusastic man, trying not to stare at his useless legs as he maneouvers his wheelchair around the room. She feels bad that he lost his legs in the Quell, and thinks that in some way it's partly her fault he isn't walking right now. She is quick to change her course of thoughts, however, and she redirects her focus onto the set of targets on the far end of the room. There was no sense in mourning something that couldn't be changed.

"Like it?" Beetee asks, and she lifts her head to see Gale hefting a crossbow into his arms. "Maybe you should try it out. After all, if you're going to be a part of Katniss' propo team, the least you can do is look the part."

Gale says nothing in reply, but happily stalks up to the firing line she's standing beside and raises the crossbow, loading it and taking aim before pulling the trigger. They watch, mesmerized as the target bursts into flames on impact, and although they're at least thirty meters away, the plume of heat is felt clearly across her hair and face.

"Katniss! Over here."

She whirls around to see Beetee motioning her over, and she quickly saunters up to him to see what he wants.

He reaches across the table and hands her a bow, letting it fall delicately into her hands as she wraps her fingers around the beautifully crafted tool and admires its aesthetics.

"Plutarch wanted you to have a weapon for the propos," he explains. "And of course, I couldn't just give you a fancy fashion accessory."

"It's beautiful," she says, looking it over in awe.

"Well don't get too caught up in it yet," Beetee says, clearly excited. "I've got some more surprises for you to look at."

He wheels himself past her and over to another table, and she reluctantly stops admiring her new bow to follow after him, Gale putting down his crossbow to do the same. There are a series of arrows laid out across the table, and Beetee points to each one as he explains their differences.

"We have regular, incendiary, and explosive arrows, all color-coded. I've also got a trident for Finnick. You can tell him that when he's ready."

He gives her a strange look as he says this, and she can't quite pin it down before it disappears completely and he turns his attentions to Gale.

She takes a regular arrow and walks up to the firing line to practice with her new toy, hoping that the distraction will take her mind off of the trident laying on the table behind her.

* * *

She finds herself in front of the door leading to Finnick's quarters sometime later, intent on giving him his weapon before she and Gale have to leave for District 8.

She doesn't really know why she wants to give it to him, exactly; he's been out of his mind lately and therefore in no condition to weild a deadly weapon. But she supposes that maybe that _is_ why she wants to give it to him, because he's not in his right frame of mind and maybe, just maybe, he'll start coming back to his senses if he's able to see and hold something that used to mean so much to him. Or it could just be that she'll be going into the field of battle soon and she wants to see him one last time before she leaves. Either way, she's come too far to back down now.

She slowly tilts the newly built trident in her hand, admiring its weight and shine. It feels strange, holding something that belongs to him - wrong, even - and she tries to get over the awkwardness of having possession of a thing that is not rightfully hers to begin with. She twists it upright and sets its end on the floor, a heavy 'thud' resounding in the thick concrete as she takes a breath and knocks on the door.

It takes a minute, but he eventually answers; Finnick slowly opens the door, eyes briefly meeting hers before turning around and inviting her in.

She follows after him, closing the door behind her as she comes to stand at the foot of his bed, watching as he sits hunched over on the mattress tying knot after knot.

She raises the trident in her hand, twirling it from side to side in hopes of grabbing his attention, resorting to coughing when that doesn't work. It baffles her that such a large and heavy object would fail to catch his eye, and he didn't even seem to glance at it as he let her in the door. This whole situation was getting close to being an intervention, and she honestly hoped that it wouldn't come to such extremes.

She coughs again, louder this time, and waits for him to respond. When he doesn't, she begins to get irritated; but, rather than blow her fuse, she decides to take a calmer approach. She calls his name.

"Finnick?"

He breaks out of whatever trance he was in, pausing in his knot-tying to lift his head and look over at her. The trident in her hands is finally noticed, and his mouth falls open in shock and surprise as he stares it up and down, eyes filled with wonder.

"Beetee made it for you," she says, walking over to stand in front of him and present the object. "He said to give it to you when you were ready."

Hesitantly, he reaches up and takes the trident from her, tilting it this way and that as he inspects the crafted metal. "Katniss...I don't know what to say..."

"Then promise me something," she says simply, and he breaks his gaze away from the weapon to look up at her. "Promise me...that you'll stop this."

His eyebrows pinch, as though he doesn't understand, and to help better make her point, she gets down on her knees to be closer to eye-level with him. "Promise me that you'll stop moping around and being all..._non-Finnick-y_. I know that you're_...afraid_ of upsetting me, but you're depressing everyone and I can hardly stand to look at you with the way you are now. And frankly, you're not doing anyone a bit of good. So _man up_."

If it had been Peeta or anyone else, she would have never been so blunt to a person who was obviously going through a tough time; they would probably only get even more depressed because of it. But Finnick _wasn't_ Peeta or anyone else; he was himself. And as himself, he was someone who was naturally self-confident and liked to take on impossible challenges. At least, she was pretty sure he was. It was a bit of a gamble, but she had faith that her attempt to restart the fire in his eyes would work - granted, it was withering, but still. It was all she had left.

She looks up into his eyes, staring him down with the hardest, most serious glare she can muster under the circumstances, and waits for him to respond. When he doesn't, she braces her hands against his arms and reiterates her words, tone as serious as can be.

"Finnick? _Promise me_."

There's a flicker of surprise in his eyes, then hesitance, and then-

"...Okay."

He nods, looking at her as though he's just seeing her for the first time, and she releases the breath she's unknowingly been holding in relief as she sees her words sinking into his brain. It's then that she notices the extremely small amount of space between them; there's less than six inches separating their faces, and if either of them wished to do so, they could bend ever so slightly forward and kiss the other person. All it would take was a little push...

She awkwardly stands up and scrambles away, needlessly wiping her hands on her pants legs as she purposefully looks anywhere but at the man in front of her.

"...Okay," she says, making it a point to get past the tenseness hanging over them. "I'm going to District 8 with Gale...I'll be back soon."

She's about to leave when he calls her name at the last second. "Katniss!"

"Yeah?" She asks, whirling around to face him.

He breaks his gaze away from her and looks down at the trident in his lap. "Thank you, for...for defending me in front of Gale. I really appreciate it."

She looks at him, the tiniest bit surprised, and nods. "You're welcome."

And with that, she leaves.

* * *

Nearly five hours later, she returns from her harrowing journey into District 8.

Plutarch is quick to cut the footage they'd captured into something suitable and inspiring for television viewers, and Coin gathers another meeting at the atrium. She takes Katniss up to the podium with her as they watch the promotional piece and she delivers her speech, and the young Mockingjay has to fight the urge to run away; it feels as though she's back at the Capitol, being forced to watch the recaps of the Games with Caesar all over again. She can hardly stand it.

"There is no such thing as progress without compromise," Coin says, squeezing Katniss' hand. "No such thing as victory without sacrifice. But I stand here with The Mockingjay to announce that our moment has finally arrived!"

The gray-haired woman raises her and Katniss' joined fists above their heads, and the crowd explodes with enthusiasm as they whoop and holler and cheer. She smiles, though it's more of an automatic response than a genuine act, and when the sounds of clapping and shouting cease, she leaves the spotlight to join the others in the back some feet away, Finnick being among them.

Coin resumes her speech, but Katniss can't seem to focus on it as she stares out into space, the faces of the dead District 8 natives from the hospital flashing through her mind. The way they had looked at her, as though she were a beacon of hope and the answer to all of their problems, only to die less than an hour later...

She is jerked from her flashback by Finnick, who nudges her, and she jumps with momentary fear and alertness before meeting his gaze and coming back to reality.

"What's the matter, Fire Girl?" He asks in a low voice, smirking just the slightest. "Don't like hearing a fight song at a funeral?"

She can't really do anything more than look at him in response, but she does offhandedly notice that his personality is much better than it had been when she'd left. The near deafening sound of 'hoorahs' being shouted all throughout the crowd in response to Coin's speech are finally brought to her attention, and when Finnick realizes just how out of it she is, he drops his smirk and tries to level with her.

"Try not to think about it too much, Katniss. This is a _good_ thing; the more people we have on our side, the better. We're one step closer to Peeta and Annie."

She numbly turns her head to stare back at the dull cement below her feet, and answers automatically, "Yeah..."

She doesn't bother to acknowledge his stare as she looks out into space, doesn't try to make it seem as though she cares. President Coin finishes up her speech, dismisses the district workers, and the crowd slowly disperses.

She parts ways with Finnick and walks with Gale to the cafeteria, trying not to think about how little of an impact his words have had on her.

One step closer to Peeta.

It doesn't bring her a sense of peace or safety, a feeling of restlessness or anticipation at being reunited with the boy she loves, the boy she's _supposed_ to love. Instead she feels _dread_, an anxiousness at being so close so soon to the boy who loved her endlessly and nearly got himself killed in the Quell, who even up to now still thought that she loved him back.

A gross feeling tightens itself in her stomach worse than one of Finnick's knots, and she represses the urge to lift a hand to her torso to try and relieve it in some way.

One step closer to Peeta.

The fact should comfort her.

It doesn't.

* * *

It's nearing bedtime before she knows it, but instead of retreating back to the quarters that she, Prim, and their mother share, Katniss once again finds herself in front of the door to Finnick's room.

She doesn't know why she's there, she swears she doesn't – her feet just seemed to carry her there on their own - but she feels an inexplicable need to see him before she goes to bed. She raises her knuckles and takes a breath before knocking on the door, and just as she's thinking of walking away, he opens it.

"Katniss?" He asks, brows pinching in confusion.

He obviously doesn't know why she's there, and to be honest she doesn't either, but rather than explain, she simply says, "Hey, Finnick. Do you mind if I come in?"

He looks down at her feet, as though trying to figure out not only why she's there but _how_, and after a few seconds of working things out in his head he replies, "Uh...yeah. Yeah, sure. Come on in."

She nods her thanks and steps inside, and he moves away from the door to make way for her as she rests her hands on her thighs in uncertainty.

She doesn't really know what to do now. She had hoped that coming inside would reveal the reason she wanted to come here in the first place, but finds that she's even more confused now than she was standing outside his door.

She walks over and sits on the bed, not knowing what else to do, and Finnick joins her soon after shutting the door, leaving a few good inches of space between them as he sits beside her. She notices his trident resting against the wall in a corner, all shiny and sleek, and finds her recent inability to smile just a little less painful.

"Sooo," Finnick says, dragging out the word with caution. "Did you want something?"

She blinks and snaps her gaze to him, forgetting the weapon sitting in the corner, and tries to put together a response. "Oh, uh...I just...wanted to know how you were doing."

It was pretty lame the way she executed it, but her 'reason' for coming to his room is the best she can come up with on short notice. It doesn't actually work, of course; Finnick sees right past her weak answer even before it's finished coming out of her mouth, and he breaks out into a smile as he looks down at his lap and bites his lip to keep from chuckling.

"_Really_, Fire Girl? Because I was actually wondering the same thing about you."

Her mouth opens, but for the longest time no sound comes out. "...Oh. Well...I can assure you, I- I'm fine-"

"No you're not, Katniss," he says, and the sympathy in his eyes makes her shut her mouth. "...I know what happened out there today."

His voice is soft and low, and she blinks rapidly to clear any oncoming tears and looks down towards the floor to avoid his gaze. She knows what's coming, knows that he's going to ask her about it, to try and make her talk about the one thing she's been trying to pretend doesn't exist all day, but she can only sit there in silence as he continues on.

"I'm sorry the Capitol bombed that hospital...I know you wanted to save them. Hell, I can't even _imagine_ how terrible that must have felt, standing there watching while they murdered all those innocent people-"

"_Stop_," she chokes, shutting her eyes and trying to control the size of the rock in her throat. "Just _stop_...please..."

She lets out a shuddering breath, thankful for the bout of silence that follows, but then she feels a tightening grip on her arms and her eyes snap open to reveal Finnick staring intently at her.

"But you _can't give up_," he continues, voice almost desperate. "You can't let that stop you. If anything, you need to let it _drive_ you, let it be the thing that pushes you to take down the Capitol once and for all. As long as you're alive and with us, we can make sure that nothing like that ever happens again. But you need to get it together...for all of our sakes."

Tears painfully prick at her eyes, and she purses her lips to keep from outright sobbing as she stares at Finnick's uncharacteristically resolute expression.

She knows she's supposed to find strength in his words, to find the resolve to quell her emotions and move on with the rebellion, but all it really does is trigger the dam behind her eyes. She makes one last ditch effort to cease her spiralling sadness and swallow it down, but in the end she can only look him in the eye and give him a short response before she bursts completely.

"...They're dead, Finnick," she cries, sobbing as her eyes overflow and she grabs onto his shirt. "They're all dead..."

She's suddenly pulled back into the memory of Gale telling her that District 12 is in ashes, of her crying and Finnick coming to comfort her, and she wonders why everything she cares about seems to become obsolete the moment she leaves its side. All she ever does is ruin things, kill and murder them without having to do so much as lift a finger. She has a Death Touch, a terrible ability to destroy everything in her path. Like a _disease,_ all she has to do is be around something long enough for it to wither and rot into nothingness. She truly would be better off dead.

Finnick pulls her in for a hug and she clings to him like a lifeboat in the middle of an ocean, sobbing into the sturdy cloth of his dull brown jumpsuit as he raises his arms and wraps them around her, cocooning her in a kind of warmth and comfort that she thinks only he can offer. They sit together for some time, the tough mattress of Finnick's bed helping little with her emotional problems; she wants something soft, something fluffy and pliable and willing to yield to all her aches and pains, something she can hug and squeeze until it breaks. What she gets is Finnick.

And suddenly there it is, the 'reason' she'd been looking for since coming here. She had wanted to go somewhere quiet and safe to break down, like she'd been wanting to do ever since returning from District 8. And really, it made sense to her that she'd subconsciously choose Finnick to run to; she didn't want to appear weak in front of Prim and neither Gale nor her mother would know how to handle it, and Finnick had been through the same things she had and knew what she was talking about and how she felt.

It was only logical.

It had nothing whatsoever to do with her heart or emotions or 'feelings' towards him.

At least...that's what she was making herself believe at the moment.

She wants to be able to say that she doesn't need it, this comfort, but in all honesty she wouldn't be able to deal with her situation without it, and she wouldn't dare accept it from anyone else but the man holding her now. She sits, leg dangling off the edge of the bed with the other tucked beneath her, and decides to foolishly and selfishly indulge in the fact that Finnick Odair of all people is trying to make her better. She closes her eyes, inhaling the scent that she had initially assumed to be Capitol cologne but turns out to just be Finnick himself, and tries to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all.

"...Tell me a secret," Finnick says suddenly, tone casual.

She feels his vocal chords vibrating through his shirt and the distinct pressure of his chin pressing down against the top of her head as he speaks, and for a moment she's so focused on these things that she doesn't understand what it is he's said.

She sniffles, unsure of the purpose of his request. "...What?"

"A secret," he says again, sounding thoughtful. "Tell me something you've never told anyone before."

At first she doesn't realize what he's trying to do, and her mind draws a blank as she tries to think of something she's truly never told another person. "I...uh..."

"Come_ on_, Katniss," he pleads impatiently, grabbing her arms and pulling away to look her in the eye. "A secret!"

"Um...I've...I- I've never liked my mother's cooking."

He places a kiss on her forehead, pulling away before she can even react.

Flabbergasted and dazed, she tosses out another secret. "I...I tried to drown Prim's cat once."

He kisses her temple.

"I once stole one of Gale's rabbits and acted like he didn't catch anything."

Her cheek.

"I thought about letting Peeta eat the Nightlock berries by himself when we won the 74th Hunger Games together."

The corner of her mouth.

"I was never pregnant in the Quarter Quell."

He kisses her full on the lips then, and although she anticipated it, she's so surprised that all she can do is widen her eyes in shock.

He smiles into the kiss, as though overjoyed with this information, and she wonders for just a moment if he was doing this to make her forget the atrocities she's witnessed or to fish this very admittance out of her. But then she blinks, and Finnick is still kissing her, and the thought is gone.

He gently pushes her down onto the bed, and all thoughts of the day's events are wiped from memory as she loses herself in the feeling of Finnick's lips against hers.

She lets her fingers drift through the many locks of his bronze hair, and though she knows it's hardly necessary by now, she throws out one last secret that's been wanting to burst from her lips all day.

"I had a dream about you last night."

It comes out as a sort of whispered gasp, and just as she finishes saying it, Finnick lets out a hot breath against her neck and tangles a hand in her hair, placing a firm but gentle kiss on the exposed skin. He seems to linger by her jaw and ear after this, and after a few moments pass she decides that he's waiting for her to elaborate on her dream. She does so, but finds it ridiculously difficult to do with him so close to her.

"I dreamed that I had..." She pauses, squeezing her eyes shut and letting out a soft sigh as Finnick places his lips at the place where her neck meets her head, just behind her ear, and tries to continue on with her explanation. "Had a nightmare. I woke up, and you came running through the door asking if I was okay."

He begins to slowly kiss his way down her neck, apparently encouraging her to go on, and after taking a moment to stop her erratic breathing, she continues. "I asked you to stay with me, to keep the nightmares away...and you did. And I felt...safe. Comforted. But then...then Prim woke me up."

Finnick gently kisses her Adam's apple, then the top of her throat, and then her chin, before pulling away to look down at her. There's a spark in his eyes, and suddenly she's not in District 13, but in the Capitol, savoring her stolen moment with Finnick Odair in the room they'd given her prior to the Quell.

"...I would, you know."

He's slightly breathless, but it doesn't stop him from telling her something he feels she needs to hear.

She pinches her eyebrows at his statement, and he has no problem with elaborating to make her understand.

"If you asked me, I would always be there...to keep the nightmares away. _I would_."

She is utterly baffled by the sincere, honest to God expression he gives her, and her mouth falls open in complete surprise as she registers the intensity in his eyes.

She doesn't know whether to take this as an invitation for her to ask this very thing of him, or if he's just saying that he'll always be there for her, but the seriousness in his gaze and the truth in his words leaves her speechless. They stare at each other for an immeasurable amount of time, and the longer they do the more she feels it, _feels_ the emotions he's trying to send her, trying to make her understand. And it's right after this realization that she feels horrible for doing this to him, for letting him do this to himself, and another rock lodges itself in her throat as new tears begin to form.

_How could she? Come to his room in a state of weakness and lead him on like that? String him along and let him believe that they still had a chance? And really, wasn't he just using her as a substitute for Annie, just as she was supposed to be using him in place of Peeta? _

But that would be a lie. At least on her part. Because she _wasn't_ using him as a substitute. She never could. If anything, it was the other way around; Peeta was the substitute for him.

She really doesn't want to face it, to face the unmistakable truth: she would always love him, love Finnick. She could never truly replace the man before her with anyone else. No matter how hard she tried. But he had Annie, and she had Peeta, and they were both waiting for them, _counting_ on them to save them from the Capitol, and didn't they each owe it to their partners to stay by their sides when they were at last rescued? Didn't they at _least_ deserve that?

She closes her eyes and lets out a quiet, shuddering breath, warm tears sliding past her cheekbones and into her ears as she lays beneath Finnick.

She wants to forget. Just forget everything leading up to this moment and simply lose herself in what was happening now, to pretend as though everything were just the way she wanted it and nothing at all in the world was wrong. Or better yet, as if nothing prior to this moment even existed. But she is not God, and the world was not null and void before she walked into Finnick's room, and she cannot make it so. But maybe she _could_ forget, could lose herself in this moment in order to purge the day's events - no, the past _year's_ events - from her mind, if only for a little while. If she would only let herself do so...

Finnick cups her face and wipes away one of her tear trails with his thumb, and though she knows that he doesn't fully understand the reason for her tears, she doesn't stop him when he wraps her in a gentle hug and places soft, comforting kisses on her jaw and neck.

She silently sighs, closing her eyes and savoring the peace and safety she feels at being in his arms as she wraps her own around his neck and holds him close.

Yes.

She would allow herself to forget.

Just this once.

* * *

**A/N: I was gonna include Katniss' venture into District 8 but I felt like this chapter was already long enough and...well we all _know_ what happens :P**

**Credit for the scene where Katniss defends Finnick in the mess hall goes to elfielovesbooks. It was one of the many wonderful ideas she shared with me for this story and I decided to use one of them here ;)**

**'Til next time!**


	17. Pt III: Aftershock to Rubble

**A/N: 08/15/2015 Sorry I took so long, this chapter was a real stubborn one to write!**

**A Huge Fan: Oh gosh. I have to say, your review made me grin from ear to ear. Really. Your words are far too kind. I'm _immensely_ happy that you think I write Finniss so well, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :D**

**Also big thanks to Guest, elfielovesbooks (love you!), LadyScatty (seriously, you're the bomb), AnnabethPrior, Guest, aaaand XenaTheDog for your reviews; I love you guys! :')**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 19 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 33 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter seventeen: Aftershock to Rubble~

* * *

When Finnick awakens the next day, Katniss is nowhere to be seen.

He doesn't want to acknowledge it, but he is disappointed to see that she hadn't bothered to stay, more so than he probably should be under the circumstances.

He sits up in his oversized bed and dangles his legs over the edge, bare feet coming to rest on the cold floor. The shocking temperature of the cement sends chills from his toes all the way up to his torso, and he just barely resists the urge to shiver.

He sits there, staring at his jumpsuit-clad legs and then at his feet and then at the floor, and fondly remembers the night before.

Katniss had been so quiet, so helpless and vulnerable. He may have grown accustomed to doing quite the opposite in beds these past few years, but he didn't mind in the least that all they had done was lie in each other's arms and keep warm for the night. It may have sounded cliché, but he genuinely enjoyed spending the night with her, to be able to be the one she let her armor down in front of.

He had stayed up a good portion of the night, well after she had gone to sleep, and just stayed by her side, watching her. She was so pretty when she slept; not that she wasn't gorgeous on a daily basis, but still. He remembered half expecting her to wake up screaming from nightmares, but was pleased to find that – at least for that night – that never happened to be the case.

He knew that it was wishful thinking, and far too soon for him to be entertaining such thoughts, but he hoped that Katniss would let him in more often - on an emotional level - as she had done last night. He knew that she was still broken and fragile and working things out in her own head, but he still held out hope that, with time, they would be able to get to the point he wanted them to be at, where they could talk and laugh and share things with each other without there being any tenseness or misunderstanding between them. Maybe one day...

Finnick exhales, swinging his feet back and forth, and quietly ponders what he's going to do today.

He comes up with nothing even after a few solid minutes of thinking, but decides that it doesn't really matter anyway. After all, what was the point of wasting his brain power on daily activities when there was nothing to do around this Godforsaken district in the first place?

Sighing, he slowly slides out of bed and puts on his shoes, mentally readying himself for the day.

* * *

He wanders rather aimlessly through the levels of District 13, letting his feet carry him wherever they will.

Somehow, he ends up at the cafeteria just in time for breakfast.

He grabs a tray and gets in line for his daily portion of eggs, water, burnt bacon, and instant potatoes. He honestly doesn't know how the district natives can even function properly with the consumption of such nasty looking gruel, but he figures that if they've been eating it for years (or however long they've been down here) it won't kill him over the course of a few months, or however long it takes to bring down Snow.

He finds a solitary table in one of the corners and sits himself down, not really paying much attention to anything, and rests his cheek against his fist as he pokes idly at his food. He nearly dozes off at one point, he's so tired, and he has to shake himself awake before he ends up with his face in his potatoes.

He looks around to see if anyone witnessed his near blackout, and spots Katniss some yards away, food tray in hand.

She's talking and smiling with Gale, and he's about to turn his head away from the exchange in distaste when she notices him. He starts to curl his lip in disgust towards 'Gale', and he's just able to catch himself as his eyes lock with hers.

A long beat passes, and Katniss turns to Gale and exchanges a few parting words with him before she leaves his side and begins walking towards him. He inwardly starts to panic, going through every possible reason in his mind as to why she would want to talk to him.

_What should he assume? That she was sorry for leaving so early? That she was coming over to thank him? To tell him not to read into it? To say that it was a mistake and they should never speak of it again?_

She reaches his lonely corner and comes to stand in front of him, hands awkwardly gripping her food tray as she ponders what to say and he wonders whether or not he should invite her to sit down.

"Thank you," she says stiffly. "...For last night."

He swallows, the cogs in his brain spinning so fast in search for a reply that they're about to fly off the hinges.

What was he supposed to say?_ It was just a 'one time' thing? That they should forget about it and move on? That it was nothing?_ Because it certainly wasn't 'nothing' to him. And he _sure_ as hell didn't want to forget about it, _or_ move on. He wants to lash out at her for a split-second, to unleash all of his mounting dilemmas and frustrations on her for putting him in such a delicate position, but it's gone as quickly as it comes, and he settles for the only answer he can think of that is lukewarm rather than completely hot or cold.

He smiles, though it's not entirely genuine, and says, "Uh...You're welcome."

She smiles and relaxes her posture, and he does the same, glad that his last-minute response was received so favorably on her end.

There's a single second of silence between them, but before it has the chance to get awkward, Katniss takes a step forward and motions to the empty seat across from him with her tray, asking somewhat unsurely, "Um...can- can I sit?"

He looks at the spot she's referring to, and he shakes the slowness from his head as he drags his own tray closer to him and draws his feet back to make room.

"Oh, uh...yeah, of course."

She nods appreciatively and seats herself on the bench opposite him, making herself comfortable as she picks up her fork and takes a mouthful of eggs.

He sits quietly, watching her eat and wondering how on earth she can make it look so easy to down the 'food' that he himself can hardly stomach, but as she takes a few more bites he gets the feeling that it's because she's trying to work up the courage to say something to him rather than because she's hungry for what's on her plate. And just as he suspects when it comes to the mysterious Everdeen girl, he's right.

"Uh...there's...there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

Finally gathering the courage to take another bite of his potatoes, he politely prods her. "Hm?"

"...The nightmares," she says, keeping her voice low as though the very topic is taboo. "How do you deal with them?"

He scoffs, swallowing his food and rolling his eyes to let her know that it's no big deal, and doesn't hesitate in giving her an answer. "Pfft. I drag myself out of nightmares all the time and there's no relief in waking up. It's all the same to me, asleep or not."

She looks slightly crestfallen at this admittance, and he feels the need to lessen the harsh blow of reality for no other reason than to see her happy. "But if you're looking for advice...I guess the trick is to not give in. If there's one thing I know, Fire Girl, it's that it takes ten times as long to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart."

She looks up at him, eyes sparking with something akin to hope before dying back down into pools of hot silver.

She furrows her brows, confused, and counters, "But...you didn't have any nightmares last night."

"Yeah," he admits, tilting his head and looking up thoughtfully. "But that's because you were with me."

A heavy awkwardness descends upon them as soon as he's finished speaking, and judging by the deer-in-the-headlights look she gives him, he wishes he would have kept his mouth shut..._almost._ She stares at him as though he's suddenly emptied the contents of his stomach all over the table, and he laces his fingers together and places them under his chin as he waits to see how exactly she'll get out of this one.

She averts her eyes and clears her throat, mentally scanning through whatever she deems relevant enough to bring up in conversation, and soon enough she's tossing out her find.

"I'm, um...I'm going hunting with Gale this afternoon. Do you want to come?"

He almost laughs at her blatant attempt to change the subject, and he unlaces his fingers and shifts his weight in his seat, grinning at her ingenuity.

"Thanks, Fire Girl, but I don't think I'm exactly 'welcome' to tag along on your little hunting trip. I appreciate the offer, though."

Her eyes harden at his insinuation, and she purses her lips in anger before attempting to counter his point. "I don't _care_ what Gale says. If he doesn't like that you're coming along then he doesn't have to go. I _want_ you to come."

He sighs, looking down at his eggs and bacon and mashed potatoes as he considers her offer. Though he admires her insistence to get him out of this hole in the ground and into the sun to breathe some fresh air - and he'd be lying if he said that it wasn't appealing - in all honesty he'd prefer to stay and let her go with Gale and be happy for an hour or so before being subjected to the deep, dark, depressing walls of District 13 again.

If he were to come along there was no way Gale would back down without a fight, and then it would just be the three of them alone in the woods with a tense and very _un_-fun air around them the whole time they were out there.

Yeeeeaaah.

He didn't think so.

"No, you should go," he says in all seriousness. "Gale's been wanting to spend some quality time with you for a while now. I don't wanna spoil it."

She sighs and gives him a hard but sympathetic look, as though she understands but is still angry that she can't have everyone just get along like she wants, and ultimately relents.

"...Okay," she mutters. "But I'm definitely going to have a talk with Gale about his attitude."

He chuckles, looking down at his barely-touched food as she chews angrily on her bacon.

"You and me both, Fire Girl. You and me both."

* * *

Wandering around the hospital floors of District 13 without any real purpose other than to try and quell his boredom wasn't exactly Finnick's idea of a good time, but it was all he had.

Katniss had gone out with Gale some time ago, and although he had initially been perfectly fine with it, he was beginning to doubt his decision to stay behind. It was irrational and stupid, but with each minute that passed, his mind spiraled into another crazy scenario involving all the things that could possibly be going on knowing that she and Gale were hunting in the woods – _unsupervised_ – together.

She had told him just before she left that she'd be back in about two hours, and he was holding onto that like a lifeline, trusting in her words and believing with everything he had that there was no way she'd let that 'friend' of hers try anything innapropriate. But that friend was Gale, and Gale had known Katniss almost his entire life, and Finnick doubted if she wouldn't at least lead him on to believe that there was still a chance of something romantic happening between them.

Damned Everdeens.

Always catering to everyone's emotions, never wanting anyone to get hurt. In a sense it was admirable, but their soft hearts would be their undoing, and the invisible strings attaching them to everyone else would eventually pull them down. And he didn't want to be there when that happened to Katniss.

"Mr. Odair, you shouldn't be here."

Finnick turns around, eyes landing on a middle-aged woman in a long dress and white apron, her hair tied up in a neat bun, and he decides that she must be a doctor. He looks around, only just realizing that he's in the medical ward – a place that was 'off limits' according to President Coin – and just when he opens his mouth to apologize and leave, someone else enters the room.

Someone short.

With blonde hair, a pleasant face, and a slender frame.

It's Prim.

"No, it's okay," Prim says to the woman. "He can stay. He won't bother me."

The doctor woman looks at her in shock, as though _she's_ the subordinate and the little girl in front of her is _her_ boss, and sputters, "Wha...but I...are you _sure_, miss Everdeen? He can be _very_ talkative and distracting, hardly traits to have in a professional setting. Are you sure you want to-"

Finnick twists his face up at the woman's rather crude description of him – it wasn't like he was standing right there in the _room_ or anything – but Prim saves him from proving her preconceived notions to be true by nodding and saying, "Yeah, I'm sure. Thank you, though."

The woman shuts her mouth and turns to him to nod her apology, something he can tell she'd rather do anything _but,_ and, with nothing else to do, leaves.

"Well that gets _her_ out of the way," Prim says once they're alone.

Finnick looks at her as though she's demonically possessed – he hadn't known she was even _capable_ of talking smack about other people – but she shrugs it off as though his reaction means nothing and turns to head back in the direction she came.

He stares after her, shocked, and just before disappearing around the corner, she stops to look back at him, hand resting on the wall beside her, and says, "Aren't you coming?"

Finnick shakes his head, trying to rid himself of his sudden inability to speak, and replies rather lamely, "Uh...yeah."

She turns around and resumes her pace, and he follows without question.

* * *

She takes him down a series of hallways and corridors, far more than he'd think would fit into the particular floor they were on, and eventually they end up in one of the surgical operation rooms.

A man lies on a medical table in the middle of the room, unconscious, and Finnick stops dead in his tracks as Prim walks leisurely up to the patient and checks his vitals.

"He got hurt on a piece of heavy machinery," she explains, gesturing to the man's left arm, which he notices to be bloody. "Take a seat."

Finnick slowly moves toward the center of the room, grabbing a nearby chair and seating himself just across from the little Everdeen girl, the injured man on the table being the only thing really separating them. To say he was confused wasn't exactly an understatement – in fact, it was pretty accurate to how he felt at the moment – but for dramatic effect he would go ahead and tell himself that it was anyway, if only to give his boring life some sort of excitement.

He watches as Prim bustles around the room, grabbing various things and bringing them over on a shiny silver tray and setting them down on one of those things that looks like a metal nightstand on wheels but doesn't really know the name of, and is both mesmerized and impressed by how quickly and efficiently she seems to be able to work when by herself.

"Um...I'm sorry," he says, feeling as though he's getting in her way just by speaking. "But, what am I doing here, exactly?"

"Can you hand me that set of medical scissors?" She asks, not looking at him as she organizes her tools on the tray beside her.

Unsure if she was going to acknowledge that he'd spoken to her but not about to question it, Finnick looks to the small table beside him and grabs a pair of tiny scissors, holding them in front of his face as though they're an alien lifeform.

"This thing?"

Prim nods, though she doesn't actually look at the object in his hand. "Yeah."

He stands up slightly from his chair and reaches over the unconscious body to hand them to her, letting them dangle by two single fingers as though it's a loaded gun that could go off at any second. "Here you go."

Prim takes the scissors, grabbing them with _much_ less caution than he had, and sets them down on the tray beside her other medical tools. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

It's silent for some time after that – she takes her time cutting the sleeve off the injured patient to better get to the wound on their arm and he just sits there watching – and though it's kind of awkward being in a room with the body of a stranger and the little sister of the girl he loves, Finnick doesn't mind being mentally engaged in something that'll keep his mind off the fact that Katniss and Gale still aren't back yet.

"_So._.." he says, attempting to start a conversation. "How long have you been working at the hospital?"

"Almost since we got here," she replies, filling a needle with a clear liquid.

"And how has that been working out for you?" He asks, trying to keep the small talk going.

"Pretty well," she says, injecting the needle into the man's arm. "I got promoted the other day, so I'd say it's going pretty well for the most part."

He lifts his eyebrows, surprised. "Wow. Your sister must be really proud."

"I haven't told her yet," she says, putting the needle down and taking a sanitation wipe to clean up the caked blood around the wound.

"Well why not?" He asks, as though it were a stupid decision on her part. "You're doing great over here, she should know."

Prim throws the dirty wipe away and takes out a needle and thread. "She has a lot to deal with right now. I want to tell her when the time is right."

Finnick blinked. "...Oh."

"So how are you and Katniss doing?" She asks, taking the focus off of her. "She never came to bed last night."

His eyes grew wide. _What was he supposed to say? That he didn't know where she was last night? That they'd slept together but not really? Should he just dodge the question altogether?!_ Gah, all these tough situations he keeps getting himself into! You'd think that Everdeens would know when to quit.

"It's okay," Prim says, smiling as she begins to stitch the gash the unconscious man's arm. "I know you wouldn't force Katniss into something she didn't want to do. And I know my sister; there's no _way_ she'd do anything more than sleep with you in the literal sense."

He greatly appreciates her saving him from making a fool of himself, but he's also slightly disturbed at how 'in the know' she is about these things; what sweet, nice, perfect, innocent young girl _knew_ about stuff like that?

"What, are you and Katniss late-night gossipers or something?" He asks hesitantly, grinning even though he's slightly uneasy.

"More or less," she replies, concentrating on her stitching. "We tell each other everything."

He chuckles, unable to help himself. "Everything except when you've been promoted at a hospital, right?"

"Don't get smart."

"Right. Sorry. Soooo what do you two talk about? I mean aside from how bland and uninteresting this place is."

"You mean what do we say about _you?"_ She asks, turning away from her task to give him a knowing look.

He relents, admitting defeat. "...Yeah."

"Not much," she says, continuing to sew the patient's wound. "She asked about you a couple nights ago, but other than that, you're not really a main topic in our conversations."

"She asked about me?" He echoes, ears perking up in interest. "What did she say?"

"Nothing too fabulous, she just wanted to know what I thought of you."

"And?"

"Well I couldn't exactly say anything _too_ detailed about someone I hardly know."

Oh.

Right.

"_But_," she continues, recapturing his attention. "Judging by the quality time we're _currently_ spending together, you can count on a good report from me."

He sits up in his chair, proud of himself. "Oh. Well...thank you."

"No problem."

They sit in a semi-comfortable silence, and Finnick would be lying if he said that he wasn't extremely pleased with himself right now. After all, how often did the outcast Capitol playboy get brownie points with the little sister of the love of his life? I mean seriously? How often did that happen? And then to have such a sweet, cute, secretly sassy future sister-in-law to boot! What were the odds?

He grins to himself, lowering his head to try and hide it, and says, "You know, that was pretty bad of you back there, telling off that doctor and taking me behind the scenes of a _life-saving_ surgery session."

Prim shrugs. "I figured it was best, considering all the trouble you could get into without my sister to keep you in check. Thought I'd take one for the team and act as babysitter."

"Ouch."

"_And_," she continues. "To get to know you better. If you're gonna plan to be with my sister then we better get along; otherwise it's a deal-breaker."

His eyes widen.

Wow.

Nice, sweet, mature, funny, level-headed, _and_ a practical thinker.

Everything he ever wanted in a little sister.

How much more perfect could this get?

Finnick's grin grows wide at the thought of having a girl like Prim to call his little sister, though it's the thought of being able to call Katniss his wife that _really_ stretches it out. Katniss Everdeen-Odair. Katniss Odair. Mrs. Odair. Mrs. Katniss Odair. It had such a nice ring to it. Way better than Katniss Mellark or – ugh – Katniss _Hawthorne_.

"You know," he says suddenly, breaking himself out of his daydream to look Prim in the eye. "I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

She pauses in her stitching to give him the biggest smile he's ever seen.

* * *

When Katniss Everdeen gets back from her hunting trip with Gale, her first thought is to go see Finnick.

Though she can't explain why, she feels the need to flag him down and make him sit through a good two hours of listening to her babble on about what a great time she had. Which was ironic, considering how mad she'd been with her fellow district member for saying what he had to Finnick, but she was so giddy at the moment that it hardly matters; she goes straight to Finnick's room and begins to make herself comfortable, just barely taking note that he's perfectly busy reading a book on his bed.

"Back so soon?" He asks after a moment, eyeing her from his place on the mattress as she kicks off her boots and shoves them in a corner.

"Yeah," she says, smiling despite herself. "Coin said we had to come back so our trip was cut short."

She sees him boredly turn the page of his book from her peripheral vision. "Did you have fun with _Gale?"_

She opens her mouth to say that yes, she did – she had _loads_ of fun with Gale, in fact - but there's something in the undertones of his voice that tells her he's not asking out of politeness or genuine curiosity. She turns to him, finally looking at his face, and she can tell immediately by the hardness in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw; he's _not_ in the most pleasant of moods.

"Uh...yeah. Yeah, I did, actually. Something wrong?" She asks, wanting to get confirmation on what's right in front of her.

He shifts his posture on the bed and turns his gaze away from her and back to the book he's reading, feigning nonchalance. "..._No_."

Despite the severity of the situation, she finds herself smiling like a crazy woman, and she zeroes in on him like he's a rabbit caught in her sights.

"No, something _is_ wrong! You're mad that I went hunting with Gale, aren't you?" She grins, crossing her arms and moving to stand in front of him.

He blinks rapidly, flabbergasted. "..._What?!_ In case you don't remember, _I'm_ the one who told you to go without me!"

"Well you're mad about _something_," she says, tossing her arms up. "And it clearly has to do with me, so, please, enlighten me."

His lips quiver with angry words just waiting to be said, and she can tell by his downcast eyes and flaring nostrils that he's trying with everything he has to keep it all in. But she knows him, and she knows that when it comes to matters of the heart and how he truly feels about something, Finnick Odair can never keep his mouth shut for long. She watches, the short yet seemingly long process momentarily mesmerizing her as he finally comes to his breaking point.

"...You said you were going to be back almost an _hour_ ago."

She blinks, brows pinching. "...What?"

His gaze snaps to her, eyes sharp. "You heard me."

She takes a step back, absolutely floored with this information, and goes on to fumble out a reply. "Wha...I..._that's_ what you're mad about?! Because I didn't get back _exactly_ when I said I would?! What did you think I was _doing_ that whole time?!"

Pursing his lips, Finnick shoves his book aside and jumps up from the bed and into a standing position, fully prepared to combat her as though he'd been rehearsing it for the past half hour. "Well what the hell was I _supposed_ to think?! You're out traipsing around the woods with Gale for over an hour longer than you said you'd be, doing _God knows what_, and I'm stuck here looking after Prim and wondering what the hell you're doing or if you're even gonna come _back_, not to _mention_ the fact that we spent the night together and you suddenly turn around and go prancing off with _him _like you're just _trying_ to screw with my head-"

"You looked after Prim?" She asks, quirking her eyebrows in confusion.

He quiets, looking away and shifting his posture in an attempt to look more intimidating than soft, and reluctantly replies. "...Yeah. _Someone_ had to."

A slow smile pulls at her mouth, and upon seeing her reaction, Finnick goes right back to raising his voice to defend his manliness. "But don't read too much into it. I was bored and there wasn't really anything to do in this Godforsaken place...and don't think that just because I spent an hour or two with her that we're 'bonding' or anything. It was just a one time thing and..."

He goes off into a spiral of words and explanations that are really unnecessary for anyone _truly_ as uncaring as they say they are, and even though he's probably on a hundred different topics by now to try and save face, she can't focus on any of them because she's still stuck on the fact that he took the time to go help her sister.

He starts to pace about the room and raise his voice again, and he eventually comes to stand just inches away from her in the middle of his tirade when she decides to just shut him up.

She doesn't know what possesses her to do it - maybe it's the proximity, or the heat of the moment, or just the fact that she doesn't like seeing him so distraught – but she takes his face in her hands and presses her lips to his.

The silence that follows is immediate, and it leaves a low ringing in her ears as she pulls away to stare at him. He looks absolutely shocked, almost how she would imagine him to look if she had outright slapped him, and after a few long, tense seconds she notices that he isn't breathing.

She stares at him, taking in his sea-green eyes and bronze hairline and ridged nose and thin lips, analyizing everything from his Capitol-perfect cheekbones right down to his strong, sculpted jaw, and with each passing second she takes memorizing his face, she begins to worry more and more about his sudden lack of oxygen intake.

She returns her gaze to his, parting her lips in concern as she decides whether or not to say something to snap him out of it.

"...Finni-"

It was meant to come out as a question, but she doesn't get that far as the man before her suddenly sweeps forward and closes the small gap between them, taking her face in his hands and capturing her lips with his in one swift movement.

Finnick backs her into a nearby wall, threading his fingers through her hair and quite literally kissing her senseless.

Katniss' eyes widen to saucers, shocked at the sudden turn their conversation has taken, and though she feels somewhat bad for bringing this upon both herself and him – after all, she had only wanted to shut him up – she's hardly in a position to complain, either; she enjoys Finnick's kisses, and she'd be a fool to state otherwise.

Finnick stops kissing her just long enough to catch his breath – she swears, the man must have superhuman lungs – and moves on from her mouth to her jaw, kissing his way from the corner of her lips to her ear and continuing downward along her neck.

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and sighs happily through her mouth, inadvertently breathing right into his ear. It's a complete accident, and yet it only garners the strongest of reactions from Finnick; he pushes her harder against the wall and lets out a breathy sigh of his own, flooding her neck and hair with heat.

She's about to close her eyes and lose herself completely to his touch, but he suddenly pulls away, staring at her with the most serious of expressions as he braces his palms flat against the wall on either side of her head.

_"Look,"_ he breathes, readying himself for what he's about to say. "I know you said that we can't be anything more than friends, but _I_ can't."

He pauses to gauge her reaction, and when she gives nothing away, he continues. "I can't just sit here and think myself to death about whether or not you actually care about me on a deeper level than just comfort or friendship, like I do for you. And, I know it's hard. I know that between me and Gale and Peeta that you don't want to hurt any of us, but eventually-"

She blinks and wets her lips, attempting to stop him. "Finnick, I-"

"You're gonna have to _choose_." He finishes, looking her dead in the eye.

She knows that he knows she doesn't want to hear it - and she really, _really_ doesn't – but it's also true; she _will_ have to choose, eventually. And when that time comes, she needs to be sure. Absolutely, one hundred percent sure. No room for doubt. No regrets. No second thoughts. It needs to be merciless. And that's something she fears she cannot be.

Because even though she knows that she would choose Finnick over and over again, a thousand times if need be, she also doesn't want to hurt Peeta or Gale. Gale has been her best friend for half her life, and though logically it made the most sense to give him the benefit of the doubt and choose him, if only out of loyalty and the fact that he had seniority over all of the other men in her life, she also knows that he would get over it once she made her choice, and so she doesn't really give him much thought; it's Peeta that she's the most worried about.

Peeta, who had been in love with her since before she could even remember, who fed her when she was starving in the middle of the street, _dying_. Though she doesn't love him, she also feels as though she _owes_ it to him to give him a chance, to stick by him through all odds, even at the expense of her own heart, if only to repay the countless debts she owed him for his unconditional kindness throughout the short span of time she'd come to know him.

Yes, in the end she would have to choose someone. And that someone would most definitely be Finnick. She only feared that the repercussions of such a choice would be too catastrophic for her conscience to handle. If only hearts weren't so breakable.

"Katniss!"

Her head snaps to her left in the direction of Gale's voice, and Finnick pushes off the wall and creates a considerable amount of distance between them just before her friend enters the room.

He pauses in the doorway, looking awkwardly between her and Finnick; he obviously notices the sudden tension in the air, but decides to overlook it as he ignores Finnick and fixes his gaze on Katniss. His eyes harden, and she immediately prepares herself for whatever bad news he's come to deliver, but nothing could have prepared her for the stomach-dropping words that leave his lips just moments after their gazes lock.

"It's Peeta."

* * *

**A/N: No, Peeta hasn't been rescued yet. Remember, we've still got the whole air-raid scene to do. I swear, I rewrote this thing two or three times. I just felt that Prim was OOC (and personally I still think she is a little bit) and I just wasn't satisfied with the last scene with Katniss and Finnick. Whatever, though, it's done.**

**Let me know what you think! :D**

**'Til next time!**


	18. Pt III: Rubble to Sand

**A/N: 08/22/2015 So apparently yesterday was International Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day! How cool is that? I'd like to give a big public thank-you to elfielovesbooks for dropping me a PM and telling me how 'appreciated' I was. Thanks, Elfie! :)**

**Also thanks to definitelyinappropriate, Starry Ana, A Huge Fan (lovin' your reviews, man!), Flames Of Sage, SesethuTee, Keeper, Libranfate, XenaTheDog, and LadyScatty for your reviews. I love every single one of them and I truly appreciate all the positive attention and kind words I've received from you :')**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 18 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 31 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter eighteen: Rubble to Sand~

* * *

Peeta's second broadcast is nothing short of heartbreaking.

He's different, not at all the same as she had last seen him. His eyes are worn and he had lost a considerable amount of weight, and after looking more closely she could see that he was shaking. It took everything in her to keep it together during that interview, to not break down right then and there and let the guilt at being the sole reason for his torture consume her once and for all. She felt lower than low, of less worth than the dirt she treaded on. She could only hope that in the end he could forgive her.

Gale had been the one to suggest they respond to Peeta's statements.

She had been reluctant at first, but upon realizing that the likeliness of Peeta knowing what Snow and the Capitol had done to District 12, to their _home_, was slim to none, she agreed. After all, certainly he would change his tune once he knew what Snow had done. And so she donned her gear and set out with her team to District 12 to record another propaganda piece in hopes of enlightening Peeta and the rest of the Capitol to the unspeakable crimes Snow had committed against thousands of innocent people under everyone's noses.

* * *

It was hard, being in her home district again, but necessary if she wanted to achieve what she was aiming to do.

Interestingly enough, she finds herself worrying more about Finnick and his whereabouts than the countless dead laying in the town square. She feels uneasy with herself, having left him behind when they had been sharing such an important, intimate moment in their already delicate relationship, but the deed was done, and she had work to do.

She spends the remaining precious hours she has left in recording the propo.

* * *

Nearly an hour after Coin has previewed her propo to the whole of District 13, Boggs comes to get her.

She's sitting in the cafeteria with Prim, thinking about Finnick and how she hasn't seen him since she got back, when the military officer approaches her and tells her that she's wanted in Command. She gazes warily between him and her sister, knowing that it has to do with Peeta but not wanting to confront or acknowledge it, before reluctantly agreeing to follow him up to headquarters.

She sees Peeta's face on one of the large video screens as they walk in, and she has to stop and stare at him because she just can't believe what she's seeing.

His features are ghostly and skeleton-like – his eyes are sunken and the skin around his cheekbones and jaw is the tightest she's ever seen it, he's so thin - and his overall expression is one of sadness and hurt. She gasps, bringing a hand up to her mouth in regret and guilt at what _she's_ unwittingly done to him.

"I'm begging you for restraint and decency towards the districts," Peeta says, his hollow eyes staring into her soul. "Please."

She's about to cry, about to let the first of many tears slip from her eyes as she stares at him, but holds it in as she realizes she's in the company of complete strangers, none of which she wants to see her at her weakest. Beetee, who had been sitting at one of the control panels near the center of the room, quickly punches a series of keys and buttons on the computer he's situated at, and Peeta's face is eventually taken over by her propo video and the remains of District 12.

"There it is, there's our footage," Coin says suddenly from beside her, pointing at the screen.

"He made it in," Plutarch calls, leaning over Beetee's computer.

The footage is snowy and of less quality than what had been shown just an hour before, but the fact is that it _works_ and they made it through the Capitol's firewall. Peeta's face fades in and out on the screen, and everyone can see that he's staring in disbelief at what she and her team recorded. Which is good. Because it proves that he isn't a traitor, that he was merely doing what he had to do in order to protect her, to protect them both. The look on his face is of genuine shock, and she may be over-thinking it but Katniss swears that she sees tears forming in his eyes.

"...Katniss?" He calls hesitantly, looking back into the camera and - unknowingly - at her. "Katniss, are you there?"

The propo feed is completely overtaken by Peeta's interview, and the camera cuts to Caesar as he tries to pointedly ignore what just happened with the broadcast and get back on topic.

"Peeta, you were telling us about the savage attacks from the rebellion. Please continue."

The view cuts back to Peeta as he recomposes himself, and though Katniss hopes that he won't continue trying to shovel such garbage out to the districts – _especially_ after what he's just seen – she knows that he ultimately will. Peeta was a level-headed young man, and he knew that if he wanted to keep his head attached to his shoulders, he would do what the Capitol said. She admired his ability to think things through and make his decisions based on the consequences of his choices, but she knew that the people of District 13 wouldn't see it that way. This would only prove to further cement their hateful opinions about him. She only wished that she could be wrong this time.

"Uh...yeah. Um...the- the destruction of the dam was a cold and cruel act of inhuman nature-"

Her propo once again floods the screen for a moment, and she can just imagine the lackeys in the Capitol running around like headless chickens trying desperately to purge the feed.

"Think about it, Katniss." Peeta says once he fades back into view. "How is this all going to end? What's going to be left when it's all over? _No one _is going to survive this. No one is safe. Not here in the Capitol, and not in any of the districts."

She can't help it anymore. She begins to cry. Her nose tingles and loosens and tears spill over her eyelashes and down her cheeks, and suddenly she can't swallow because a rock is lodged in her throat, hard and painful. Why couldn't she have just died? Why couldn't she have saved him? Why-

"Katniss, they're coming."

She jerks her head up, staring with wide, bleary eyes at the image of Peeta, whose expression suddenly seems concrete and resolute. He looks as though he knows he will be punished severely for what he's doing, as if he knows he's about to die but is also okay with it. The last time she remembered him looking like that was when they won their first Hunger Games.

"They're coming, they're gonna kill everyone. In District 13-"

His sentence is interrupted when two Peacekeepers move in front of the camera and heave him out of his chair, their muscular, white-clad arms none too gentle.

"Katniss, hurry!" He yells as he's dragged off-screen. "You'll be dead by morning!"

The camera swivels a bit and the feed is cut entirely, and their view of the Capitol is replaced by the constantly moving image of fuzzy snow.

There is a few long seconds that pass with no one saying a word, the only noise being that of the dead feed streaming onto the screen. Katniss swallows down her tears, and Haymitch is the first to speak.

"Did you see that? That was a warning. He's warning us."

"Yes," Boggs agrees. "Yes it was."

Finally finding her voice, Katniss turns towards them and says, "Well what are we doing, we have to get him out before they kill him!"

Her cries and protests go ignored by everyone but Haymitch, who gives her a sympathetic look, and Coin quickly walks over to one of the radar systems to check for an oncoming attack.

"There's nothing on Doppler, but it looked like he was in the mansion," she says. "He could have overheard something."

"Maybe," Plutarch agrees, though he seems somewhat skeptical. "So what do you want us to do, Madam President?"

"It's time for an air raid drill." Coin replies.

She walks over to a control panel and presses a large button, and the dark room is flooded with flashing red lights and a loud alarm sounds above their heads. Everyone immediately begins preparing for the Capitol's attack, and Katniss stands in the center of the room, watching as they all move around her like a river around a rock, and it takes all of three seconds for her to realize that she needs to find Prim. Now.

She spins on her heel and bolts out of the room, gradually breaking into a run as she heads for the cafeteria.

* * *

Prim is nowhere to be found.

She's not in the mess hall.

She's not in the hospital.

She's not _anywhere_.

Deciding she must be on her way to the bunker, Katniss takes the stairs and quickly makes her way down, trying not to get trampled by the immeasurable amount of people crammed into the thin stairwell.

The soft flashing of the red emergency lights and the loud, thunderous sounds of the alarm and the automated female voice telling them to descend to level 40 go almost unnoticed by her. All she wants is to get to the bottom and find Prim. Nothing else matters.

She eventually reaches the bunker, leaping off the last two steps and bounding past the blast doors, and within seconds, spots her mother in the crowd.

"Mom!" She shouts, trying to stay stationary amidst the countless throngs of people pushing past her. "Mom!"

She has to call once more before she can get the blonde woman to turn around, and yet again in order for her to look at her, but she has her attention, and she's not about to waste it.

"Mom, where's Prim?!"

"I thought she was with you!" Her mother shouts back. The panic in her voice doesn't go unnoticed. "She...she must still be on the stairs!"

_The stairs?_ She thinks. _But that can't be. She was among the last people to-_

"Oh God..." She whispers, eyes going wide.

The cat.

She went back for the cat.

She doesn't even think about it. She turns around and runs back past the blast doors, eyes focused firmly on the metal staircase ahead of her.

Her shoulder smacks painfully into someone else's, but she is determined to get to her destination, and so even when the person grabs hold of her and forces her in front of them to apologize, she has no intention of doing so. And she wouldn't have. If only that person weren't Finnick.

"_Katniss?" _He asks, as though he can't believe that she of all people would want to get _out_ of the bunker that was supposed to be saving their lives.

She tries to tear away from him, but his grip on her arms tighten, stopping her from doing any such thing. "Finnick, I can't, she's-"

"Wait!" He says, brows furrowing with confusion and worry. "Hold on a second! Now tell me; _what's wrong?"_

She nearly crumples in his grip. "It's _Prim_, she's still out there!"

His eyes grow wide, his expression a near perfect mirror of her own, and he loosens his hold on her to turn around and stare back at the never-ending staircase with fading hope. He turns back to her, eyes hard and determined.

"Stay here. I'll go get her."

He lets go of her and turns around, and in her confusion, she actually tries to stop him. "But-"

"Katniss!" He yells, taking her face in his hands and staring pleadingly at her, jostling her from her confused state. "_Stay. Here."_

She swallows and reluctantly nods, and he doesn't waste any more time as he turns and dashes towards the stairs.

One of the district soldiers gently turns her around and leads her back inside the bunker, and she waits just outside the blast doors for Finnick and Prim to return. She stands there feeling vulnerable and useless, and she prays that this will not be the moment she experiences yet another loss of a loved one. She couldn't imagine life without Prim, and she would never forgive herself for Finnick's death. She only hopes that she won't have to grieve them both at the same time.

The P.A. system warns that the blast doors will close in thirty seconds, and her heart nearly sinks to oblivion, the only thing keeping her standing being the last, thin string of hope that they'll come bursting through the door and make it.

Her breathing stops and her muscles go rigid, and as the seconds drain and the doors begin to close, that last thread of hope is pulled taut to the point of snapping. It's arguably the most intense wait she's ever experienced in her life, and as Finnick and Prim and Buttercup finally come into view and race down the stairwell together, she hopes that she will never have to experience anything even remotely similar in the years to come.

Relief floods her system and her lungs start working again, and the muscles in her body finally loosen as she watches Finnick scoop Prim into his arms and dash between the blast doors just in time before they close. He sets her down and Katniss squats down, her legs too weak to support her as she extends her arms towards Prim and hugs her tight.

She sighs, relief quickly making way for anger as she pulls away from her younger sister and yells, "What were you _thinking?! _Going back for the cat! You could have been _killed!"_

"I wasn't gonna leave him behind!" She argued, holding the ugly feline close. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let him die!"

The announcement that the blast doors are closed blare through the speakers overhead, but only Finnick pays attention to them as Katniss smiles tiredly and places a neat strand of hair behind her sister's ear.

"I know, Prim. I know. Now let's get out of here. We should find a bunk before they're all taken."

She stands up and Prim smiles, and they do exactly as she suggests.

* * *

They sit through the bombings with baited breath, hoping to God that they'll survive the night, and Katniss silently thanks Peeta for warning them about the air raid in advance.

They seem to last forever, but the shakes and rumbles left by the bombs eventually fade into nonexistence, and within an hour everyone is up and moving around the cramped bunker, checking on their friends and making sure everyone has everything they need. The lights had gone out some time ago, and a small group of people went about giving everyone flashlights and lanterns, which were quickly put to lighthearted use as people used them to tell stories and make shadow puppets and try to lighten the mood and take their minds off of what was currently going on around them.

Katniss sits with Prim on their bunk, a small group of teens and some adults surrounding them as she holds her flashlight and teases Buttercup with it. It chases the tiny ball of light, pawing angrily at it as she moves it around on the wall, and everyone giggles at the cat's antics.

If it had been any other time, she was sure that they would complain about having an animal on the premises when they were clearly not allowed, but under the current circumstances, she knew that everyone present appreciated the distraction from what was happening on the surface.

She chuckles along with everyone else and wiggles the flashlight some more, but for some reason when Buttercup chases after it again she loses interest in toying with an animal that's oblivious to the reality of what's happening around it. And suddenly she feels like Snow, toying with a defenseless creature and wearing its spirit down while simultaneously giving it hopes of catching the light it could never truly have. _She_ was that cat. And Snow was the one with the flashlight.

Disgusted, she drops the light as though it were on fire and wipes her hand on the cloth of her jumpsuit, earning stares from those crowded around her. Embarrassed, she blinks and picks it back up, clearing her throat and handing the object to Prim.

"Here, play with the cat," she says quickly, getting up from their bunk.

She doesn't give her sibling a chance to ask what's wrong as she abruptly leaves, making her way past the tiny crowd and breaking through to the other side in order to clear her head.

She closes her eyes and exhales deeply in quiet relief once she's out of the suffocating proximity of their stares and scrutiny, and when she re-opens them her gaze settles on Finnick some yards away, laying forlornly on his own bunk as he keeps his head down and stares at something in his hands. She almost thinks better of it, but in the end her curiosity and want to talk to someone other than her mother or sister wins her over and she's making her way towards him without another thought.

As she comes closer, she sees that he's looking at a photograph. And once she's close enough to make out his deep and thoughtful expression, she feels the growing need to back away and leave him be. She begins to turn around and do so, but he looks up at her a second later and she freezes, eyes wide with that 'deer-in-the-headlights' look she's oh so fond of wearing.

"Uh...hey," she says awkwardly. "Do you...do you mind if I sit with you for a while?"

His response is quick and tailored, as though he's been hoping for this moment ever since they got inside the bunker. "Uh, no. No, please, go right ahead."

He gets up from the bed and sits upright, moving over to give her room to sit down, and she dutifully takes her place beside him. They sit in strained silence for a few moments, each thinking of something interesting or worth talking about, and just as she thinks she's found a suitable topic, she makes the mistake of glancing over at the photograph in his hands.

It's a picture of a woman.

A woman with beautifully fair skin and bright red hair and a pretty smile.

It's Annie.

She blinks rapidly and looks away, feeling ashamed and somewhat foolish for coming over here and invading his 'alone time' in the first place, and he seems to take notice in the change, because he folds the picture in on itself and curls it in his fist, hiding it from view. The previous topic she'd had ready is all but gone, and another suitable, more appropriate one is tumbling from her lips a moment later.

"Um...I- I just wanted to say thank you. For saving Prim."

Finnick turns to look at her, surprised, and after taking a moment to recollect himself, he is quick to appease her. "Oh. No problem. I would've done it in a heartbeat even if you weren't there. It's no big deal."

She wants to say that _yes_, it _is_ a big deal, but the picture of Annie flashes again in her mind, and she refrains from making any such comments. Silence overtakes them once more, pressing down on them for some time before she is able to find something else to talk about.

"...I'm sorry that Snow's using Annie to punish you."

He looks at her again, even more surprised than before - after all, how often did _she_ talk about Annie? - and she has to look away from the intensity of it in order to continue her speech. "He's..._taunting_ us with them. With Annie and Peeta. I didn't understand it until just now playing with that stupid cat."

She scoffs at the notion, looking bitterly out at the rows of bunks across from them, and Finnick takes a while to respond as he seems to battle with his own inner thoughts.

"When you won your first Games," he says suddenly, and she turns her head to stare curiously at him. "I thought the whole 'star-crossed lovers' thing was an act. And a bad one, at that. Me and the other Victors all expected you to just stick with that strategy. But it wasn't until Peeta's heart stopped in the Quell that I realized I'd misjudged you. You _do_ love him."

She opens her mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to signal that he's not done.

"I'm not saying in what _way_ you love him – you probably don't even know yourself – but anyone with two eyes and a brain can see it. You do love him. If you didn't, there's no way you'd be this worried about him. And I think you know that, too."

She wants to rebuff him, she really does, but in her heart of hearts, she knows that she can't. She still throws out a counter point, though, and even though it's weak, she still tries. "...Finnick, that's not-"

"But that doesn't change the way I feel." He says, cutting her off and looking her determinedly in the eye.

The serious, no-nonsense look he gives her is enough to stun her into silence, and after it's decided that she isn't going to say anything, he turns away and opens the fist containing Annie's picture, bowing his head to stare down at it as he thinks of fond memories long since passed.

"I thought I loved Annie, you know. I honestly did. When I met her, she made me feel happy and good about myself, and I'd never felt that way around anyone else. So I thought it must be love..." He smiles and scoffs lightly, stroking Annie's picture with his thumb before turning his head to look at her and smirk. "But that was before I met you."

She tries to return the smile, but she can't; his smirk disappears and the moment passes, and they transition from the heartfelt and slightly less depressing topic of Annie Cresta to the deep and far _more_ depressing topic of Gale and Peeta.

"I can't...I can't _go about my day_ like nothing is wrong when you're out gallivanting with Gale or Peeta or whoever. I just can't. And, I know it may be hard for you to accept, let alone believe, but_ I love you_. And _nothing_ is going to change that."

There's a spark behind his eyes as he speaks, and the brunt of his words sink into her like quicksand, slow but sure.

She wants to believe him, but she also doesn't. She desperately wants to believe that what he's saying is true, and though she has little reason to think that his words wouldn't be sincere up to this point, there's still that tiny voice in the back of her mind telling her not to trust him. It's Doubt, she thinks. And Fear. And Uncertainty. Doubt that what he's saying is true, especially if he's still clinging to an old picture of Annie. Fear that what he's saying _is_ true, because that would mean she'd have to detach herself from Gale and Peeta completely, and she's not ready for that. And uncertainty at not knowing what will happen next, whether she accepts his feelings wholly and truly or not.

"...Finnick, I-"

"No," he says, looking away and waving her off. "You don't have to say anything now. Just...go back to Prim and play with the cat. Don't worry about me."

She wants to say 'I love you', but she can't force her mouth open to speak the words. There's just something about it that isn't right, that isn't fitting for this moment. Like she _could_ say them, but if she did it wouldn't be sincere, not completely. And when she does finally utter those three little words that hold so much more weight to them than they should, she wants them to be right and pure and _true_, impossible to be corrupted or corroded over time. Because as much as she loves Finnick, or _thinks_ she loves Finnick, she doesn't want to make a commitment that she's just going to end up abandoning in the future. She needs to be _sure_. And right now she's not.

So she doesn't say 'I love you'. She doesn't say she's sorry. Doesn't tell him that she appreciates the way he feels. She doesn't say anything. She gets up, nods in his direction, and leaves to join Prim and Buttercup like he'd suggested.

She spends the next two hours mulling over Annie Cresta.

* * *

That night, she can't sleep.

She had stayed up thus far thinking about Finnick, about what he'd said and how she would handle it. On the one hand, she wanted to jump into his arms and just forget about Peeta and Gale and the rebellion and leave all her troubles behind in favor of a bright and promising future. But on the other, she _couldn't_ forget about Peeta and Gale and the rebellion and all her troubles. It was a double-edged sword, her feelings, torn in two right down the middle and separating her from what she wanted and what was right. She knew that in the end it would be of little argument - she would choose the right path and go with whatever would best benefit the districts and the rebellion - but she still dreamed of her other option.

She takes a breath and turns her head, staring out into the dead-quiet room.

There's not a peep out of anyone in the bunker, not a snore nor a whimper, and she wonders if it's because they can't sleep either or they just have better dreams than she does. Prim sleeps soundly beside her, eyes closed in proverbial slumber. She turns her head back around and stares at her sister, envying her ability to sleep undisturbed. She wished that she could have avoided the nightmares that came with winning the Games, but if she could make the choice all over again, she would volunteer for her in a heartbeat. And she supposed that if nightmares were the price to pay for her sister's happiness, then she would endure for as long as she lived.

"Katniss."

Pausing in her breathing, she turns around to the edge of the bed and sees Boggs hovering over their bunk, looking calm but somewhat regretful that he has to interrupt her from her much needed rest.

"President Coin wants to see you." He says.

Exhaling in slight irritation, Katniss slowly moves to get out of bed.

She makes sure Prim is safe and warm beneath the covers before she leaves, and follows dutifully after Boggs to see what President Coin could possibly want at this hour.

* * *

Coin is talking with Plutarch when they get to the control room.

Boggs moves aside to let Katniss pass, and she stands there far longer than necessary for someone who was so 'urgently' wanted. Coin finishes up with Plutarch and turns her attention to her, and from the pleasant look on her face, she can tell that whatever it is, it's not bad news.

"Katniss," Coin greets, smiling. "How are you?"

Katniss nods her head. "Fine. Thank you."

"Are your mother and sister okay?" She asks.

"They're...they're fine, yes." She answers, wondering why she's asking such out-of-character personal questions.

"And Finnick?" Coin prods. "How is he holding up?"

She resists the urge to point out that the topic of Finnick is way out of bounds – not only does it push past the boundaries of idle chit-chat, but it also makes her feel uncomfortable to know that even President _Coin_ knows there's something going on between them – and so she settles for a mere curt reply. "He's..._fine_. Look, I would really just like to know what you wanted me for."

She doesn't mean to be so rude, but she's been sleep-deprived and therefore has little to no tolerance for meaningless small talk, especially when the one she's receiving it from clearly doesn't care much deeper than that her friends and family aren't to be counted among any casualties.

Coin doesn't seem taken aback in the least by her hostile response, and just like she suggests, she gets right to the point. "Right. Sorry. Well, I didn't want to wake you, especially when you need your rest, but I thought you should know that we survived the attack with zero casualties and that we remain fully operational. Peeta's warning gave us the extra time we needed to evacuate every civilian in District 13. And I want you to know that I won't forget that."

Katniss' expression softens, suddenly feeling like an idiot for being so cross with her before, and nods her thanks. "Thank you. I appreciate it. I really do."

"I know you do," Coin smiles. "Now get some rest. We've got to take you up to the surface tomorrow to surmise the damage and possibly shoot another propo."

The older woman nods to Boggs, and he takes Katniss back down to the bunker with the others.

She spends the rest of the night in a dreamless sleep, where neither terror or false hopes can touch her.

* * *

She is taken to the surface almost too soon.

The next day comes without warning, and before she knows it, she's being ushered out of the bunker and into her Mockingjay costume to record another propo. Cressida, Messalla, Castor, Pollux, and Gale all accompany her, with Boggs acting as leader, Haymitch as 'emotional support', and Effie as wardrobe manager. She wants to tell the Capitol-raised woman that she should stay behind, but doesn't on the account that Effie wants to feel important and included in what was possibly the biggest revolution in history. And besides; who else would be there to make sure her makeup didn't run?

The surface is little more than rubble.

Massive rocks and boulders and pebbles all chipped and cut from the Capitol's bombs scour the ground, and she can hardly recognize any landmarks or signs to tell her where exactly they are. If it weren't for the clear pathway they had taken to get out, she would have been clueless. They trudge their way up a small hill made entirely of rubble, and when she reaches the top, she gasps at what she sees.

There, in a large, sunken valley of debris below them, is a bed of white roses. Countless. Innumerable. Pristine. In perfect condition. And she knows they're for her.

"Why would they drop a bunch of _roses?"_ Gale asks aloud, looking down at all the flowers.

"...They're for me." Katniss says, thinking of the single white rose she'd found in her home when first returning to District 12.

"Okay, are you ready, Katniss?" Cressida asks, getting her camera ready. "We're gonna do this just like we did in District 8. Tell me about the roses. Tell me about Snow. Tell him that we're alive and well."

"He's gonna kill Peeta..." She whispers, eyes widening in silent horror as she brings a hand up to her mouth and continues to stare at the roses.

"What was that?" Cressida asks, cocking her head and cupping her ear. "Can you speak up? We don't have a mic on you. Let's try again: District 13 is alive and well, and so am I. Say it."

She shakes her head, the slow and painful realization of what was happening sinking into her like a wooden stake through her heart, and automatically denies any such requests. "No. No, I- I can't. I can't do this."

"Yes you can, Katniss," Gale says, trying to calm her down. "You can _do_ this."

She backs away, panic seizing her. "No! Don't you see? He's never going to stop!"

She turns around and sees Haymitch making his way through the rubble, walking with his hands out to signal everyone to stand down with their cameras and questions, and before she can even think about what he's doing, he walks up and pulls her into a hug.

"Let's just cut the cameras for now, okay, Cressida?" He says, the usual sarcasm adorning his sentence.

Her vision is blacked out by the dark cloth of Haymitch's shirt and the arms wrapped protectively around her, and she lets herself feel safe and untouchable for but a short moment before coming back to reality.

"...No. No, Haymitch, he warned me! Snow _warned_ me about this! He's doing this because I'm the Mockingjay! He's punishing Peeta to get to me! I can't do this!"

Haymitch gives her a sorrowful look, smoothing his hand over her hair, and Cressida steps forward to try and reason with her.

"Katniss-"

"No," she pleads. "Don't make me do this. You _can't_ make me do this!"

"Let her go," Boggs instructs, and Haymitch reluctantly releases her.

Katniss stumbles out of her Mentor's embrace, backing away from anyone and anything, head spinning as though she's about to pass out or vomit, or both. She doesn't want to be here. She's not ready for this. Not when Peeta's life is on the line.

She backs away from her team and the roses, and does the only thing she can when she gets overwhelmed.

She runs.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was originally going to stop after Katniss and Finnick had their little talk in the bunker, but I figured I should add some more meat to it. I'd say there are about 3 more chapters until Pt III is done. And then it's on to the final part! :D**

**'Til next time!**


	19. Pt III: Sand to Dirt

**A/N: 08/25/2015 A double update! Yay! Bet you weren't expecting _that, _huh? :D**

**Thank you to LadyScatty, MoonPrincess623, A Huge Fan, Keeper, and elfielovesbooks for reviewing the last chapter :)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 13 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 22 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter nineteen: Sand to Dirt~

* * *

She runs to the hiding place she had used when they first arrived in District 13 and her mind still wasn't right, but of course it's not much of a secret spot now.

Haymitch comes to find her about a half-hour after she's disappeared, not seeming to mind in the least that her face is an absolute mess from all her crying as he sits down across from her.

"So this is it, huh?" He asks, sighing as he looks around, unimpressed with her hiding place. "You're just gonna hide down here for the rest of your days, wait 'til it's all over?"

She looks at him, her red, puffy eyes stinging as she blinks to try and refocus on his face, and reluctantly replies, "I can't be The Mockingjay. I can't do it..."

She hugs her knees to her chest and begins to hide her face in her arms, but stops when Haymitch reaches over and rests a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's not The Mockingjay we need," he says. "It's just Katniss."

She stares at him, touched and a little shocked that he would even try to make her feel better, and he pulls away as soon as he's registered the look of appreciation on her face, avoiding her gaze and staring out at the short walls and ceiling and pipes that surround them.

"You know," he sighs, acting nonchalant. "You're the only real friend I've got down here. You're smart, you're strong, you're understanding...I don't suppose they gave you any kind of..._medication_?"

She scoffs, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."

Despite herself, she smiles. Even though he's clearly trying to cover up his kindness, she knows that deep down Haymitch has a good heart. It's almost funny, too, the way he comforts her and then blatantly denies any such attempts at getting her back on her feet. But she appreciates it nonetheless. They'd had their rocky moments, yes, but she had a feeling that she and Haymitch would always be on good terms in the end. And that was something she would cherish til the end.

Haymitch tilts his head from side to side, weighing her statement. "Agreed. But I meant what I said back there." He pauses, gauging her reaction before continuing. "Look; the real reason I came here...is to let you know that they're rescuing Peeta."

She lifts her head and straightens her back, alert. "...What?"

"The dam that went down in District 5? It took out most of the Capitol's power. Knocked out their signal defense or something like that. Anyway, Beetee's inside their system now, and a window is open to us. I don't know for how long, but I'm guessing however long it takes the Capitol to get the power back on."

"And President Coin?" She asks, suspicious. "She agreed to this?"

"Hey, you said you wanted him rescued at the soonest opportunity-"

"Yeah, I- I do," she says quickly. "But I just don't see how-"

"Look," he says, holding out a hand to silence her. "Peeta is the Capitol's weapon. Just like you're ours. And I think we both know that it would do us aaaall a lot of good if we had him on our side of the fence as opposed to you two pointing fingers at each other with sissy broadcasts all the time."

She blinks and looks away, somewhat miffed at his rude and blunt trivialization of the propos she'd worked so hard on, but says nothing as she waits for him to continue.

"Bottom line is: Coin's getting him out of there. And I know you two don't always see eye to eye, but it wouldn't hurt to show a _little_ gratitude towards the woman for it."

Katniss lets her Mentor's words sink in, and once they have she feels the sudden urge, the _need_ to get out of there and help them, help bring back Peeta. A spark lights inside her soul, and after that moment nothing else matters.

"I...I need to go help. I need to help them! Right now!"

She scrambles to get up, but in her haste she trips on Haymitch's foot and falls nearly flat on her face.

"Woah, there!" Haymitch calls from behind her, unashamedly laughing. "Slow down there, kiddo! Do you think you're just gonna pop outta this vent and storm the Capitol's front gates? God, knowing you, you'd probably do it. Get back here, sit down."

Willing the redness to leave her face, she sits up and reclaims her place across from Haymitch, who she can tell is trying to keep from laughing further at her expense.

"Look, even if you _wanted_ to help, it's too late now," he says, still quieting his giggles. "They've already put a team together and the mission's underway. Six people total volunteered. And can you guess who was the first brave soul to sign up?"

She thinks for a moment, wracking her brain for anyone she knows that would be stupid and brave and hotheaded enough to go running toward the first sign of danger, at the first chance to show up the Capitol-

She gasps, realization hitting her, and as she looks up at her Mentor only one word is on her lips.

"...Gale."

* * *

"Okay, Finnick, you ready?"

Yanked from his thoughts, Finnick turns his head toward Cressida, looking first at the tattooed woman and then at the camera in her hands.

After Katniss had ran away, Coin requested that he fill in for her during the propo. At first he had been dead-set on saying no, but when she told him that they needed a distraction for the Capitol while a small team set out to rescue Peeta, he knew that he couldn't refuse.

It wasn't that he _wanted_ to rescue Peeta – as far as he was concerned, it worked out best for him to keep the boy as far away from Katniss as possible – but he didn't want him to die, either, and when Coin informed him that they planned on rescuing Annie and Johanna as well, he was powerless against her request. And so he agreed, and here he was, just outside the underground facility of District 13 in the freezing cold getting ready for a propo.

"Uh...yeah," he says, answering Cressida's question far later than was considered polite. "Yeah. I am."

Cressida nods quickly, not bothered in the least by his behavior, and opens up her camera to get ready for recording. "Great. Now stand over there in the center of those roses. It'll make for a more dramatic shot. Castor, move to the left a bit. Pollux, you're with me. Now, we're gonna go straight to camera, so..."

Her words blur out of focus in his ears, and he finds himself staring mindlessly at the bed of white roses strewn across the rubble.

Right now, as he stood there, Gale and five others were going to rescue Peeta. Gale, who had _volunteered_, was going to be the one to bring him back to Katniss. So what did that make _him?_ Was he a coward? A spineless excuse of a man who wasn't brave enough to do what needed to be done?

No. He was afraid. Afraid of what would happen once Peeta and the others _were_ rescued, of whether or not he and Katniss' relationship was strong enough to withstand reuniting with their old flames. He was insecure. And who _wouldn't_ be? When the love of your life still loved someone else and your own former love still wanted you back?

And really, what had _he_ done for Katniss? What did he really _do_ to help her, to right her wrongs and keep her happy? Gale was going to rescue Peeta. Peeta helped keep her sanity throughout the Quell. And what did he do? Whine about her not being able to make a choice between him and them and cause her more stress than she needed? Did he really _do_ anything that benefit her?

He supposed that it was all pointless to worry about now – after all, they were already on their way to rescue them and there was no stopping it – but it didn't bring down his worries any less.

A knot of dread ties itself into his stomach, tight and painful, and the realization that's it's all happening too soon and too fast works its way through his gut and up his throat, and his head spins to the point that he's starting to lose his balance.

"Finnick?"

Cressida's wary voice brings him back to reality, and he quickly rights himself to keep from garnering her worry that he can't do the simple task that has been asked of him.

"Are...you okay?" She asks, brow quirked in suspicion.

He is quick to reply. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm...I'm good to go."

She gives him a once-over as though she doesn't quite believe that his words match up with his body language, but decides to ignore it as she holds up her camera and points it at him.

"Okay. Now remember; _take your time_. It doesn't matter what you talk about, just keep talking and don't stop. Now go."

The little red light indicating that they're recording turns on, and Finnick takes a breath before opening his mouth.

He looks at the camera and begins his propo, introducing himself and saying Katniss' lines as though they were his own, telling the Capitol that District 13 is alive and well. He doesn't find it hard to keep talking, and after the first few sentences are out of the way it's easy for him to keep going without stopping.

He tries desperately not to, but he thinks of Katniss the entire time, wondering what she was doing right now and whether or not she was even seeing this, and what her reaction would be if she knew that he was trying his absolute best to distract the Capitol and keep the spotlight off Gale and his team so they could rescue Peeta.

He could only hope that she would appreciate what he was trying to do.

* * *

When she reaches the control room, Katniss is shocked to see Finnick's face on the main screen.

She stops dead in her tracks, causing Haymitch to bump into her back as she stares at the scene before her.

"Why is Finnick doing a propo?" She asks in confusion, noticing the white roses in the background behind him.

"It's a lot more than a propo, Sweetheart," Haymitch says, moving past her and making his way to Beetee, who is situated at one of the control screens.

"Beetee's commandeered the Capitol's defense system," Coin explains, coming up beside her. "There's a limited range of frequencies available to them now that they're down to generator power."

"And I'm filling them aaaaall up with Finnick," Beetee says smugly, chuckling to himself as he types away on his computer.

"Not a whole lot of people will see it," Plutarch says, staring with her at Finnick's image. "But whoever does will think it's just another propo. What they don't know is that this broadcast is jamming their entire system with noise."

"Jamming what, exactly?" Katniss asks, staring at Finnick's mute and moving mouth.

Beetee is quick to chime in. "Internal communications, early defense warnings, you name it. As long as this broadcast goes through, our team should be able to get in and out completely undetected."

He shifts his glasses and presses a button, and Finnick's propo is suddenly un-muted and echoing throughout the dark, enclosed control room. Katniss listens to his words as though they're the last she will ever hear from his lips.

"I was sold by President Snow when I became a Victor. If you win the Games and are considered desirable, the President gives you as a reward and allows people to buy you. If you refuse to be humiliated or taken advantage of, he kills someone you love. To make themselves feel better, my clients would often pay me with large sums of money or jewelry, something of tangible value. But I was able to find a much better form of payment, far above diamonds or rubies; secrets. And interestingly enough, the juiciest ones were about our own dear President: Coriolanus Snow."

With each second that passes and each word that leaves his mouth, Katniss slowly realizes just how little she truly knows the man before her. She had always thought of him as a wise-cracking, overly-confident Victor who stole the hearts of countless women, and had only just recently changed her views to that of a troubled young man haunted by nightmares and wanted to make things right. But it wasn't until now, standing there as she watched his heartfelt and very _real_ propo, that she realized; they were the same.

Not in the literal sense, of course; they were Victors from completely different decades and therefore completely different _lifetimes_ in Capitol years. But that same familiarity and that same basic reasoning was there: they had both sacrificed huge parts of themselves in order to protect the people they loved. Her mind had always glossed over this fact whenever she thought of Finnick, but she realized that it was most likely because of the smokescreen he put up whenever they were together, that facade of confidence and smugness that always seemed to throw her off-kilter. She could understand why he did this; it kept people from getting too close. Just like she used her hard stares and sarcastic comments to do the same. They truly were birds of a feather; they had done the same things, made the same choices to keep the ones they cared about alive and well. The only difference was that they had taken different paths to get to where they were now.

She doesn't doubt that she never would have heard these things from Finnick directly, and she can only imagine how hard it is for him to say these things on camera, to tell his whole life's story to the _world_ and relive the pain and suffering he'd endured over the years just so they could distract Panem and rescue Peeta. He truly did love her.

Movement from another screen catches her attention, and she shifts her gaze from Finnick to the camera feed streaming from Gale's helmet as he sits with his team inside the hovercraft that's on its way to the Tribute Center where Peeta and the others are.

It was so strange.

Finnick's propo was working, Gale's team was undetected.

Everything seemed fine.

And _because_ everything seemed fine, it was only a matter of time before it wasn't.

"Ma'am, the system's rebooting! They're coming back online!"

Her attention is jerked from the screen to a man attending one of the many control panels, and President Coin is rushing to his side within the first two seconds after he's spoken.

"They must be diverting power from another source," Beetee mutters irritably, looking over his various computer screens. "We've got about sixty seconds before we'll be cut off."

The man next to Coin begins to panic. "Should we call back the hovercraft?!"

Everyone around her begins to panic, and even Coin doesn't seem to know what to do at this point.

She doesn't know what causes it, exactly, but something inside her is set off like a light switch, and suddenly she has an answer to all their problems.

"Broadcast me."

Everyone in the room looks at her, either surprised or shocked or both that _she_ of all people would be the one to come up with a solution to their rapidly failing rescue mission, but she doesn't quiet down or back away under their stares. Gale and his team are already halfway to the Tribute Center, and she'd be damned if they had to turn around because of a technical difficulty.

"If Snow can see me, maybe he'll let the signal in," she explains, looking at Coin. "Put me on the air so he can see me."

President Coin silently regards her for a moment before giving a straight answer, and Katniss holds her breath in anxiousness as she waits for the older woman's reply.

"...Put her on."

She exhales with relief and the whole room bursts into action, everyone yelling and shouting orders and running from one control station to the next, and she moves to stand in front of a spare camera as it's being set up in the middle of the room.

"Can we even _do_ this?" Haymitch asks in confusion as he watches Beetee work. "Can we still get through?"

"For the moment, yes." He replies, punching diligently at his keyboard. He swivels around and looks at Katniss, who stares back at him and takes a deep breath, and nods to her. "Okay, Katniss. Go."

The camera light turns on and she clears her throat, hoping to God that this will work.

"President Snow?" She calls hesitantly, staring out at the white noise grating along the screen. "President Snow, it's Katniss. I want to speak with you."

She waits a few seconds before trying again, and then again, and again still, but no matter how loud or how often she repeats her message, nothing happens on the screen to indicate that he's listening or even there. She begins to feel stupid and slightly embarrassed that her plan isn't working, and is about to give up completely when something finally happens; President Snow's face suddenly fazes past the noise and into view, a slow and creeping grin on his lips as he stares condescendingly down at her.

"Ah," he says, his gravelly voice echoing out of the speakers and into the room. "Miss Everdeen. What a pleasant surprise. I don't imagine you're calling to thank me for the roses."

She's miffed at the mention of the little 'gift' he'd sent her, but decides to ignore it completely as she gets right to the point. "I never asked for this. I never _asked_ to be in the Games, I never _asked_ to be The Mockingjay. I just wanted to save my sister and keep Peeta alive. Please listen to me. If you let him go, and I will stop being The Mockingjay. I swear, I will disappear and you'll never see me again."

"Oh, Miss Everdeen," Snow coos, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Don't you know that it's too late for negotiations? You couldn't run from this any more than you could the Games. I told you what a fragile thing peace was, didn't I? And like the child you are, you took pleasure in _breaking_ it. So please, Miss Everdeen, spare me the empty promises. At this point, I doubt you even know what honesty is anymore."

His words are getting to her, but she swallows down the painful sting of blunt truth and attempts to keep him occupied for just a little longer.

"...You asked me to convince you that I was in love with Peeta. Didn't I at _least_ do that?"

Snow laughs. "Hahahaha! Oh yes, miss Everdeen, you convinced all of _Panem_ you were in love with Peeta Mellark when you were in the Quarter Quell. I'm sure _everyone_ is well aware of your 'undying love' for the boy...speaking of which; how is Finnick holding up these days?"

Fighting her feelings of inner rage and total humiliation, Katniss casts her gaze down and clenches her jaw, angry with herself that she can't find a better foothold in this conversation.

Snow leans forward, so close his face takes up over half the screen, and she is forced to look at him once again as he bestows his parting words upon her.

"Miss Everdeen. It is the things we love the _most_ that destroy us. I want you to remember that I said that." He pauses, as though just remembering something, and adds, "Don't you think I _know_ that your little friends are in the Tribute Center?"

The signal connecting them stays on just long enough for him to see her widened eyes and her to see his devilish smirk, and the next thing she knows the screen goes black.

Coin rushes to the control panel just below the blank screen and calls urgently for Gale's team. "Boggs? Boggs, do you read me? Boggs, come in!"

"He knows..." She whispers, eyes widening in horror. "He knows they're in there. It's a trap! We have to help them!"

She begins to move around anxiously in her panic, and Haymitch is the only one who bothers to stop her.

"Woah, calm down!" He exclaims, grabbing her arms and halting any further movement.

"We're not getting a signal," Plutarch says from the other end of the room. "We can't contact them."

Katniss slowly shakes her head, staring into the endless patterns of her Mentor's shirt as she slowly comes undone. "No...no, Haymitch. They're _in_ there. They're in there..."

Haymitch smooths out her hair and tries to look her in the eye, but it doesn't do much good. "Now, now, calm down, Sweetheart. We don't _know_ that."

He tries his best to keep her mind anchored in reality, but it's too late; she's already sinking into the oblivion she had come to know all too well when she had been convinced that Peeta died in the Quell, only this time it's worse. Because it isn't just Peeta that's in danger; it's Gale and Annie and Johanna and the other five soldiers that went in to rescue them, too. _Nine innocent people_ who didn't deserve the fate they had been given. And their deaths were on her hands.

It had seemed so far behind her before, the aching emptiness that filled her day in and day out – it was Finnick she had to thank for it, he had been there to help push it away - but she realizes now that it had always been right around the corner. Watching. Waiting. Anticipating the next possible moment when it could strike and seize her like a monster in the night, dragging her further into the darkness. She should know by now that it's something she can never escape.

"Did I lose them both tonight?" She whispers quietly, finally looking at Haymitch as she tries to force an answer out of him that she wants to hear. "Did I lose them both? Did I _lose_ them?"

Haymitch looks at her with a mourning sadness, but doesn't answer her question, and the dam behind her eyes finally bursts. Her voice cracks and descends into a broken symphony of wails and misery, and not a further word is spoken by anyone in the room as they watch their beloved Mockingjay fall apart.

She crumples to the floor in an anguished heap, hot tears streaming all the way down her neck and blurring her vision as she cries out the only word she can think to say.

"No! No! No, no, _no..."_

The agony that tears into her is excruciating.

* * *

**Next chapter, go go go! :D**

***Note: credit for Katniss' thoughts on Finnick's propo goes to elfielovesbooks. I was kind of stuck on that part and she gave me some great suggestions :)**


	20. Pt III: Dirt to Roots

**A/N: 08/25/2015 This one's a shorty, but I felt like it was important enough to deserve its own chapter.**

**Anyway, this marks the end of Part III, which means after this we're on to the final part of the story! Yaaay :D I know some of you are probably disappointed to know this, but think of it this way; you're one step closer to reading a perfect, drama-less, sadness-less, Peeta-less, wonderfully happy Finniss epilogue.**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 4 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 8 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty: Dirt to Roots~

* * *

She sits in the waiting room just outside the hospital, impatient for news on Peeta and Gale and the others.

Finnick sits beside her, his right leg pressed against her left one as he busies himself with tying knot after knot on a spare length of rope. She taps the heels of her boots up and down on the hard floors, the sound reverberating off the walls at an increasingly fast rate as she grows more and more impatient.

She contemplates stopping her movements, thinking that her nervousness is messing him up, but he doesn't seem to mind in the least as he slings the rope over and under the loops he's made, going about his day like she couldn't possibly make it any worse, and she supposes that she really couldn't.

She wants to say something about his propo, but finds that words are lost on her. And judging from Finnick's tense and angry expression, now wouldn't be the time to bring it up anyway. He looks as though he's silently exploding, the heat of his anger contained only by the thick film of skin and muscle surrounding it. It goes right down to his very soul, it seems, and she wonders if it's because he's cross with her or himself. She selfishly decides on the latter.

So she doesn't think of something to say to Finnick. She thinks of Gale and Peeta and whether or not they're going to be okay. To think that they had _died_, that they had all been killed due to her own insolence and that she may never see them again, was unbearable.

Now that she'd had the time to pull herself back together for the time being, it was perfectly possible that they had survived, but she also knew that the harsh reality of their situation and the circumstances they were under gave that possibility little merit. Knowing Snow, he would have blasted them out of the sky and sent them hurtling to the ground in a ball of fire. She wouldn't put it past him.

Finnick hastens his knot-tying beside her and she's forced to once again look over at him and see whether he's okay or not. She makes the mistake of accidentally catching his gaze, however, and she's unwillingly locked in an eternal staring contest with the man next to her.

It's painful on an almost physical level as she stares at him, her eyes stinging as they burn into his. She wants to look away but she can't; he's making her feel everything that he is just by _looking_ at her, and she can't help but try to absorb some of it, if only to take part of the burden off his shoulders. He seems to notice this, and he gets this look in his eye as if he's suddenly realized just how much of his inner thoughts he's giving away, and he breaks his mental hold on her a moment later.

He turns his head away, blinking a few times and swallowing thickly as he tries to move on from what just happened, and goes back to tying the rope in his hands.

She's about to ask him what's wrong, but Haymitch suddenly appears in the doorway of the hospital, and their heads simultaneously snap up in anxiousness and anticipation, the previous moment forgotten, as they wait for him to speak.

"...They're back," he says, and they're on their feet a millisecond later.

She takes the lead as they burst through the hospital doors, looking frantically around the large room for signs of their comrades.

She sees a group of doctors crowding around a medical bed, and she's running towards them without a second thought. She pushes past them to get to the center of the circle they've created, Peeta's name ready on her lips as she expects to lock eyes with her district partner, but it isn't Peeta she sees; it's-

"Johanna?" She whispers, confused.

The woman in question grins devilishly at her as she tears out the IV in her arm, and as Katniss takes in her bald and haggard appearance she wonders what has been done to the others.

"Finnick!"

Her head snaps towards the sound, and she looks up just in time to see Annie Cresta ripping out her own IV from across the room and leaping off her bed to bolt towards the man whose name she's so fervently called. Her jaw drops, dread shaking her like a tremor, and within the next two seconds her greatest fears and insecurities are made a horrifying reality.

Annie runs to Finnick as though he's life itself, and he to her, crossing the distance between them and scooping her up into his arms as she literally throws herself at him. Finnick grins and laughs and cries as he holds her close, spinning them around and cupping her face as he smiles at her and says her name over and over again with all the love and reverence in the world.

Katniss watches, eyes brimming with tears as she witnesses the display, and brings the back of her hand up to her mouth to keep from outright sobbing.

And suddenly she feels as though all of their time spent together was meaningless, all of the conversations and kisses and comfort they'd shared without point. Her heart breaks the moment they're in each other's arms, and she feels heavy and hollow as she watches from outside their happy, loving bubble.

She begins to turn around, not wanting Finnick or anyone else to see her in such a state of disarray, but the next thing she knows she's on the ground, a pair of thick, soft hands wrapped tight around her throat.

Her head hits the cold, spotless floors with a hard 'thunk' and her eyes widen in shock and confusion, unsuccessfully gasping for air as she registers Peeta's face being attached to the arms that are killing her...Peeta. _Peeta_ was choking her. Peeta. The boy with the bread who wouldn't hurt a soul. The one who held her close and told her he loved her and kept her nightmares away. Peeta was choking her. And she had no idea why.

At first she fights it – shouts of alarm from various people sound off in the background as she struggles beneath his grip to try and throw him off of her, or at least to try and stop him from strangling the life out of her – but as the seconds pass, and her life begins to flash before her eyes, she gradually stops any such attempts from taking place.

Because the more she thinks, the more she realizes; what was the point? Even if she did get him off of her, what then? Would she get patched up and carry on with the rebellion and try not to think about the fact that neither Peeta nor Finnick seemed to love her too much at the moment? Everything would be so much easier if she were dead, for everyone. Finnick could be happy with Annie. Prim and her mother could stop worrying. Maybe Snow would even give up his attempts to crush the rebellion. She could stop being a nuisance. She could stop being a bother. She could die in peace...

She slowly closes her eyes, letting her muscles relax as far as they will go under the circumstances, and savors her last remaining bits of oxygen as she accepts her fate and welcomes her end-

Except it doesn't come.

Peeta is pulled off of her a moment later, and she's left laying there staring up at the ceiling trying to get her bearings. She tries to breathe but she can't; her windpipe was under so much pressure from Peeta's hold that the inside of her esophagus is stuck together, and though she appreciates that someone cared enough to try and save her, they may as well have just left him hovering over her with his heavy hands and that terrifyingly murderous expression.

She sees Haymitch's face, then Finnick's as he kneels down beside her and takes up her vision, his panicked expression blurring in and out of focus as she stares at him through half-lidded eyes.

The voices and fast-moving figures in the background all blur to a mild buzz, and just before everything fades to black she realizes with painful clarity that Snow was right.

It's the things we love most that destroy us.

* * *

**End Pt III.**

* * *

**A/N: Now I KNOW that you probably hate Finnick right now (and I don't blame you) but in the next chapter or so Finnick's point of view will be explained and you'll sympathize with him again. I promise. But for now this is what's you're gonna be stuck with.**

**I honestly don't know when I'll get around to posting the first chapter for Part IV. I've still gotta read Mockingjay and take notes for plot points and decide what to change and what to leave the same, and _then_ I've gotta write it. So yeah. It'll probably be a while. I'll try not to make the wait too long, though. **

**In the meantime, you can share with me your thoughts! :D**

**'Til next time!**


	21. Pt IV: Clear to Draft

**A/N: 09/06/2015 Boom, I'm back! :D**

**Thank you to elfielovesbooks, A Huge Fan, Flames of Sage, Keeper, Libranfate, Guest, joanayagarcia, and leiastar for your reviews :)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 17 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 29 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

**Pt IV.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-one: Clear to Draft~

* * *

It was called 'hijacking'.

Peeta's torture had been more extensive than any of them had realized, and it suddenly made sense why Snow had let Gale and his team leave the Tribute Center without so much as a scratch.

Beetee and Plutarch had been quick to inform her of Peeta's condition, saying that the Capitol used fear conditioning enhanced with tracker jacker venom in order to distort his memories of her, making her seem more like a nightmarish vision than the girl he'd come to know and love throughout their time in the Games together. Though to be honest, at this point she didn't think that his perception of her was too far off the mark.

She'd been forced to spend the past few nights – and then some - in the hospital while she recovered from Peeta's assault. She hadn't thought that it would ever be necessary to wear a neck brace in order to heal from being strangled, but she was learning new things every day. She suddenly remembers sitting with Haymitch in her hiding place just hours before all of this had happened, remembers how he had said that Peeta was the Capitol's weapon, just as she was theirs. She wondered how he felt knowing just how much his words rung true.

Katniss slowly blinks, vision hazy as she stares at the perfect, spotless ceiling of her hospital room.

A nurse had come and given her a shot of sleep-inducing chemicals to help her rest, but they were taking longer than usual to work. She had taken a great many of these shots when she first came here, and she knew that it wasn't uncommon for someone to grow immune to them. But for her sake, she sincerely hopes that isn't the case.

It's very hard for her to focus on any one thing, let alone her own thoughts, but she idly thinks of Finnick and Annie and how they're doing...of _what_ they're doing while she's laying here _dying_ in a lone hospital room isolated from the rest of her family and civilization.

She might have been surprised at the bitter turn her thoughts had taken these past few days if it weren't for the numbing drugs flowing through her system, and even more she might have let a few tears slip because of it, but she doesn't feel deeply enough for her emotions to get past the wall of chemicals between her heart and veins, and in all honesty, she doesn't have the energy to.

It's her third day here, in this hospital bed, doing nothing whatsoever other than staring at the ceiling and waiting for the nurse to give her another shot.

Her third day.

And not one visitor.

She's sure that it's because Coin or Plutarch or possibly Haymitch had told everyone that she needed her rest and not to disturb her, at least her rational mind is. Her irrational mind is panicked and scared and absolutely certain that everyone has forgotten about her, either because they're occupied with other things or because they just don't care, and it's been an ongoing battle inside her head for the past seventy-two hours.

She lightly exhales, the room growing darker with each slow blink she takes.

The drugs were working. Good.

Everything is hazy and she doesn't register visuals or sounds the way she would if artificial substances weren't in her system, and so she doesn't think much of it when the door to her right opens in slow motion and closes with a very long, muffled thud.

She knows it's probably just the drugs talking, but she swears that she sees the blurry image of Finnick's face looking down at her just before she blacks out.

* * *

Finnick sits quietly in his chair, watching over the sleeping form of the young Mockingjay in the bed beside him.

After bringing Annie to his room and putting her to sleep, he had gone to see how Katniss was doing. He hadn't seen her since Peeta had attacked her – which was days ago now – and upon finding that she wasn't accepting any visitors, he decided to wait until there was no one around so he could sneak in. He was relieved to find that not much more damage had been done to her other than her neck, but that didn't relieve his frustration.

_Why did Peeta choke her to begin with? Why was he ushered off the scene and into a room with Plutarch and Haymitch? And why wasn't anyone telling _him_ anything? _

Didn't he deserve to know just as much as the next person what the hell was going on? Why Katniss was in intensive care and no one was allowed to see her? Why Peeta, the boy who couldn't even bring himself to win the Games without Katniss' help and could hardly be bothered to hurt a fly, had suddenly gone insane at the first moment's notice?

Finnick's gaze drifts from Katniss' peaceful expression to the brace covering her neck, and his eyes harden as they settle on the cast covering her extensive wounds.

His jaw clenches.

_Peeta_.

He should have known that something was wrong with him from the moment Snow let them bring him back. And he _did_ know, in a way; there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind the entire time he was doing his propo to distract Panem, the small yet constant reminder that something just wasn't quite right. But he didn't listen. And as he stares down at the sleeping girl across from him, he wishes he had.

He slowly gets up from his chair and puts it back in its place against the wall a few feet from her bed, careful not to wake her, and walks back to her side and gently runs his hand over her hair, all the while being mindful of her injured neck. He knows that he's spent long enough watching her, thinking about his mistakes and how this all could have been avoided if he'd just listened to his gut feeling, but he can't help staying just a little longer. After all, he's been powerless against her up to this point; why stop now?

After a few more minutes have passed, he bends down and places a kiss on Katniss' forehead, letting his lips linger as the smell of her chestnut hair fills his nose, and silently slips out of the room.

If he doesn't get back soon, Annie will start having nightmares.

And no one wants that.

* * *

When Katniss wakes, the first thing she notices is that she feels awful.

Her throat is scratchy and dry and her eyelids feel as though they have weights attached to them, and her overall physical condition is in a tired and worn down state.

The second thing she notices is that there's a slight buzz in the room, like that of a person who has only just left and you can still feel their presence. There's also a light, almost nonexistent tingle on her forehead. She remembers briefly opening her eyes at some point in the night, on that fine line of being awake and asleep, and feeling someone's lips against her skin, but she had slipped back over the threshold of dreamlessness before she could be bothered to make sense of it.

It was probably Gale, her mind reasoned, not wanting to admit in the least who she truly suspected of coming into her room so late.

It was just like him to wait until no one was around to go see her, see how she was doing after...

The memories of the night before come flooding back into her brain, and she raises a hand to her head as she tries to fight back the tears.

Of _course_ it wasn't Finnick.

It couldn't have been.

He was too busy tending to Annie, making sure she was alright and that no harm had come to her.

Just like he'd done for her...

She closes her eyes and purses her lips, as one often does when they're about to cry, and lets out a shaky, shuttering breath. She spends the next few minutes concentrating on normalizing her breathing, and when she's finally done, she decides that she's spent long enough in this boring hospital room.

She lifts the thin hospital sheets off of her sore body and moves to sit up, finding difficulty when her neck brace weighs her down.

Oh. Yeah. _That_.

Tiredly scoffing, Katniss rolls her eyes beneath her lids and prepares herself to expend more energy than she'd originally wanted to, tensing her muscles before pulling her head upwards and pushing herself into a sitting position.

She immediately regrets it; her neck throbs with more pain than she can imagine would come from something as simple as being strangled, and she's suddenly glad for the brace lest she be greeted by the sight of the tender, ugly bruises that are surely underneath.

She sits there on her bed, trying not to cry from the intensity of it all, and after the pain has subsided she decides that it's time to leave.

She stands up, readies herself, and leaves the safety of her tiny hospital room to face whatever it is that's happening outside.

* * *

After being flagged down by a doctor and being told not to exert herself and that she shouldn't speak unless it was 'absolutely necessary' (all of which eventually led to her neck brace being taken off), Katniss wanders around District 13 in search of clues or gossip as to what's going on.

Her steps are aimless – she wouldn't know where to look even if she tried – but eventually they take her down to Special Defense. Everyone stares at her as she moves, each set of eyes landing on hers for only a second before moving down to the harsh set of bruises all along her neck. It hurts enough just to have them, but to _feel_ everyone's stares on her injuries makes her self-conscious to the point of wanting to hide beneath the nonexistent collar of her hospital shirt.

She sees Gale and Beetee some yards away, both bent over a table looking at large sheets of paper, and as she gets closer she sees that they're designs for...something. Gale is the first to notice her, and he nudges Beetee to get his attention as she comes to stand at the other side of the table.

"Ah, Katniss!" Beetee greets, adjusting his glasses. "What a pleasant surprise! Gale and I were just going over some weapons designs for use against the Capitol. See for yourself. It's quite fascinating."

Moving slow, Katniss steps forward and looks down at the blueprints lying on the table, and upon closer inspection she sees that they very closely resemble the traps she and Gale used to hunt small animals and the like back in District 12.

"They're Gale's designs," Beetee says, looking down at them with her. "He thought it would be an effective way of thinning out the Capitol's numbers if we used tactics similar to hunting. I must say, they're very solid."

She looks up at him, eyes blazing. "'Solid'? You're using animal traps to capture and _kill_ innocent people."

Her voice is very hoarse, unrecognizable to her ears, but she doesn't care. The doctor had told her to speak only when necessary, and to her, this was necessary in every sense of the word.

"The Capitol is hardly _innocent_," Gale says, his own anger flaring. "You've seen it firsthand, they all just sit back in their plush leather chairs and sip expensive wine while the rest of the world burns to ashes."

"I'm not-!" she pauses to settle her throat. "I'm not _saying_ the Capitol's innocent. But you're talking about killing an entire city of people, most of which don't even know what's really going on because of the lies Snow tells them."

She stops to let her throat rest, and Gale and Beetee stare at her, one with anger and the other with guilt.

"_Not _needlessly killing people is the one thing that separates us from them," she goes on to say, looking back down at the blueprints. "The one line that keeps us apart. And if you do this...you're crossing it."

She looks back up to see Gale's hard eyes and clenched jaw, and she prepares herself for the counterpoint he's sure to dish out.

"Yeah, well we've been following the same line President Snow was when he hijacked Peeta. And I see no wrong in letting them know how it feels to be on the other end of it for once."

She doesn't have anything to say to this, because he's right; it was only logical to make them feel the pain that had been inflicted on them, if only to serve justice in the names of the many that had already perished. An eye for an eye. That was Gale's way of thinking. And though she didn't agree with it, she couldn't say that it was wrong.

Anger boils through her veins and into the bruises across her neck, and with nothing to combat his statement with, she turns on her heel and leaves, not daring to look back as she makes her way out of the room and into the halls.

She walks fast, blood pumping vigorously through her veins as she passes person after person, not caring in the least that they're staring at her now. Her injuries pound with every heartbeat, but she doesn't pay it much mind as she puts all of her focus into getting away from Gale and Beetee.

A set of thick fingers latching onto her arm are the only thing that stops her, and she whirls around just in time to see Haymitch lifting a hand defensively in front of his face, as though expecting her to hit him. If she weren't so miserable at the moment, she probably would have.

"Haymitch?" She croaks, knitting her brows. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too," he says, chuckling.

He lets go of her arm and she pulls it back to her side, and they stand awkwardly in the middle of the very cramped hallway as she waits for him to say whatever it is that he wants to.

"Um...look," he says, clearing his throat. "I don't know if this is the best time, but I thought you'd like to know that the brainiacs up at Command have finally come up with a sound strategy for helping Peeta."

Her eyes widen, anger making way for hope. "They have?"

"Yes." He says. "They're trying something to test it right now. But- Katniss!"

He never gets to finish his sentence because she's already hotfooting it down the hall and up to the hospital, not minding in the least that her throat is painfully sore and her bruises are in no condition for a workout.

Because she has to see Peeta.

She has to know how he's doing.

And she has to do it now.

* * *

Annie's face is the last she expects to see when she gets to the hospital.

She's talking with _Plutarch_ of all people, and as Katniss gets closer, she sees that it's a much more important conversation than how the weather's been lately. They only notice her when she comes to stand directly in front of them, and they reluctantly open their little two-way conversation to make room for her.

"Katniss," Plutarch greets stiffly, looking between her and Annie.

He looks as though he's unsure of how she'll act around the red-head, but Katniss decides to deliberately ignore it. She looks at Annie, whose unsure face and sweet smile can only fill her vision for a few seconds at a time before she has to lower her gaze in shame and guilt, and she swallows thickly as she waits to be informed on Peeta's situation. The last thing he should be worrying about is whether or not she's going to be civil around the girl Finnick loved more than her.

"Aherm, _so_," Plutarch begins. "We've been thinking that maybe the best way to figure out how to cure Peeta's hijacking situation is to bring in people that he knows, if only somewhat, and find out what other memories have been tampered with, aside from the ones involving you."

She looks up at him, once again forgetting how sore her throat is. "You mean you don't even know _how_ to help him yet? I thought Haymitch said you had-"

"_Haymitch_ didn't hear the whole story," Plutarch says, giving her a pointed look. "Now like we said before, this is a very delicate situation, and we don't want to do anything that's just gonna make him worse. So our plan so far is to have Annie go in and-"

"_Annie?_" She screeches, not nearly as careful with her tender vocal cords as she should be. "Peeta doesn't even know her! Why would you risk getting her hurt if he-"

"They were right across from each other in the Capitol's holding cells," he explains. "They've been through more together than you think."

Katniss quiets, closing her mouth and looking down at the floor in shame at her own outburst. She spares a glance at Annie, whose own expression is one of shame and timidness, and immediately feels regret for her previous statement.

She may have been having a tough time these past few days, but it was no excuse for her to make others feel bad, least of all Annie. Though she envied what the girl had – looks, safety, happiness, Finnick – she didn't want her to feel belittled or insignificant. And with the way Peeta was now, with how dangerous he was, she most definitely didn't want to see her hurt. And if she had anything to do with it, she would do everything she could to prevent it. She may have been 'the other woman', but she most definitely wasn't going to pin that on Annie. With everything she had been through, she deserved to be happy.

Katniss blinks and exhales as she stares at the floor tiles, finally gathering the courage to speak up again after Plutarch had so easily shut her down. "...I just don't see what-"

"It doesn't matter what _you_ see," Plutarch says, giving her a lazy grin. "What matters is that we need someone to go in and see how he is. He's clearly unstable, but maybe we can at least see how far it goes, how much of an extent it reaches. Maybe it's only memories of you that have been tampered with. If that's the case, then our job is much easier."

She slowly exhales, trying to calm herself down. "...And Finnick agrees to this?"

"Ask him yourself," he says, raising a hand in the direction behind her.

She doesn't want to turn around, but in her stupor she does; Finnick is walking towards them with a quickened pace, as though worried about something, and as soon as she turns to face him he stops dead in his tracks.

For the first time since Peeta had been rescued, they see each other. It's been four days, and she hasn't seen even a glimpse of him. And she's only seeing him now because Annie was in potential danger.

"...What's going on here?" Finnick asks hesitantly, slowly coming out of his frozen position.

"We're just making sure that you're okay with bringing Annie in to speak with Peeta," Plutarch says, and Finnick comes closer. "We've siphoned all of the tracker jacker venom out of his system, so he shouldn't see her as an immediate threat."

Finnick notices the bruises on her neck – he _has_ to, there's no way he would miss them – but doesn't seem to have any reaction to the ugly sight as he comes to stand beside Annie. She's never wanted to scream and cry at the same time so badly.

"Uh...yeah," he says, nodding. "I mean if you think it would help, then...yeah. If it's fine with Annie it's fine with me."

"Okay, then." Plutarch says, lifting his hands. "I guess we're all in agreeance. Come on, Annie will go in alone but we can watch and see how Peeta reacts to her presence. Katniss, you coming?"

Katniss looks up and sees that Plutarch and Finnick are already to the door leading to the observation room, and under any other circumstance she would have quietly obeyed. But this _wasn't_ a normal circumstance, she was recovering from an attack by her crazed ex-star-crossed lover who didn't want anything to do with her for as long as he lived and she was expected to follow after the gamemaker responsible for her experiences in the Quell and her former lover/friend into a dark, stuffy room because for some reason they thought Annie Cresta was the solution to all their problems. No. Most definitely _not_ normal.

All this time she's been bowing to the wishes and commands of everyone around her, recording propos and keeping her mouth shut. And as she stares at Finnick and Plutarch's faces as they wait for her to follow, she decides that she's had enough. And so, for the first time since arriving in District 13, Katniss Everdeen makes a choice for herself.

"...No." She says, and the silence that follows is deafening. "_No_. I don't want to."

After the initial shock has subsided, Plutarch makes another attempt at making her tag along, insistent that she come. "Katniss, please. I know this is hard for you, but I really think you should come and see how Peeta is doing. You haven't seen him in a while and I think it would give you some peace of mind to know how he's holding up."

The offer is tempting, she has to admit, especially with the way he words it – all nice and calm – but she takes one look at Finnick and then at Annie, who is just outside the double doors leading to the room Peeta is in, and she steels herself against her decision. There was no sense in making herself miserable by sticking herself in a cramped room and staring at the girl Finnick was clearly still in love with while she tried to talk some sense into Peeta.

"No. I can't do it. I'll...I'll wait outside."

Plutarch gives her a sympathetic look but nods to signal that he respects her decision, and goes on ahead and into the observation room as Annie heads into the room adjacent. Finnick is the only one left still standing with her, and though there's plenty of space between them, Katniss desperately wishes there were more.

She wants to leave – she wants turn around and run as far away as she can – but Finnick is still staring at her and her feet are rooted in their spot. They stand in silence for an achingly long time, she staring at the floor and he staring at her, and it's only when Finnick speaks that she's able to get her mouth working again.

"...Katniss, I-"

"_Don't_," she forces out. "Just don't."

A rock forms in her throat, hard and sharp and twice as painful with her neck injury, and she feels tears sting at her eyes as they fill up her vision and threaten to spill to the floor. She doesn't dare look at him; she can't, because after all this, after all she's been through with Peeta and the rebellion and Finnick reuniting with Annie, the last thing she wants is for him to see her weak.

Finnick tries once more to get through to her, but she isn't having any of it; she bites out one last remark to make him go running, and hopes that it has the desired effect.

"Just go! Go in there and look after _Annie_."

It's not really what she says so much as how she says it; she croaks out her sentence with all the bitterness she can muster, which isn't hard considering it's all she's felt these past few days, and when she finally looks up at him she sees that it does even more than she'd been aiming to accomplish. Finnick looks as though he's been shot through the heart, his eyes nearly dead and wide with shock, as though she herself had been the one to pull the trigger. And as she stares at him, she almost feels like she has.

There's a single tense moment between them, and though she secretly hopes that he'll stay and tell her he still loves her and that everything's alright, she doesn't blame him when he finally turns his back on her and heads through the door to join Plutarch.

Katniss turns around, closing her eyes as the first few tears spill over her eyelashes and splatter onto the floor, and brings up a hand to cover her mouth.

She walks over to the set of waiting chairs against the wall on the other side of the open room and shakily sits down, wondering if she's just severed she and Finnick's relationship for good. She genuinely hopes not, but she honestly doesn't see their situation getting much better, either. It's just that things are so much more complicated now, with Annie and Peeta being back. She knew it was selfish of her, almost evil, but a part of her secretly wished that she had never made the deal with Coin to rescue them. It would have all been so much easier then...

She sniffles and takes a shaky breath, deciding to stop dwelling on 'what ifs'.

She still felt obligated to Peeta, and Finnick still had feelings for Annie. That much was certain. And though she felt angry and cross with him, she really couldn't blame Finnick for making her believe that he loved her. That was her fault. She was the one who chose to believe him. This whole mess was practically her fault. If she hadn't fallen prey to his charms in the first place...

No.

No more 'what ifs'.

Only facts.

And the fact was that she couldn't handle being unloved and completely alone in the middle of a revolution. She couldn't sit idly by while Peeta declared his hatred for her and Finnick declared his love for Annie. She just couldn't. And the more she thought about it, the more she wondered why she had even tried to do so in the first place.

Katniss leans over in her chair and hides her face in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees and letting her hair fall in front of her to temporarily escape from the rest of the world.

She uses the remainder of her time to quell her tears.

* * *

Annie's interview with Peeta seems to last longer than the few minutes that have passed on the clock resting against the wall across from her, but in reality that's all it has been; a few minutes.

Plutarch emerges from the observation room with a disheartened look and Finnick runs past him to get to the room Peeta and Annie are in, bursting through the doors and disappearing for no more than a few seconds before he comes back out with a crying Annie and leads her over to the set of waiting chairs on the other side of the room.

Plutarch is closest to her, standing somewhat off to the side as he closes his eyes and sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in silent frustration.

Katniss takes one good, long look around her – from the sight of an unhappy Plutarch to an unhappy Annie to an unhappy Finnick to the set of double doors that no doubt leads to an unhappy Peeta – and decides that she's finally had enough. She gets up, takes the three or four steps needed to reach Plutarch, and asks him to do something she's wanted to do ever since getting out of the hospital.

"Take me away from here," she whispers, not looking at him as she focuses her impatient gaze on the ground.

Plutarch lowers his hand from his face and looks at her in confusion. "_Where?_"

She's a bit stumped by this, but upon looking once more at the sight of Finnick comforting Annie and whispering soft words into her ear, her mind is quickly made up.

"_Anywhere_," she says, turning her desperate gaze on him. "Just get me out of here."

Plutarch purses his lips, looking her over as if to see whether or not she's truly genuine in her request, and she can see that her argument is quickly losing ground.

"_Please_," she says hoarsely. "I can't take this anymore. Just get me out of here."

A few more seconds of silent contemplation pass, and Katniss holds her breath in hopes that he'll understand her predicament and _why_ she needs to get away so badly; if not for her emotional health, then at least for mental reasons. She could hardly stand being cooped up in this cold, damp underground base as it was, and now that Finnick and Peeta wanted nothing to do with her it was finally at the point of being unbearable.

Plutarch's gaze turns from skeptic to sympathetic, and she knows she's won when he finally sighs in relent.

"Most of the fighting has gone down in the districts," he says, keeping his voice low. "But there's still some action going on in Two. I can send you there."

She exhales in relief and gives a small smile. "Thank you."

He nods. "You'll leave as soon as possible. Get your gear ready."

She nods, turning around and heading back in the direction of her living quarters, so happy at the thought of finally getting out of here that the sight of Finnick and Annie almost _doesn't_ make her want to burst into tears, and tries to hurry despite her neck injuries.

This was just what she needed. A place to cool down, to sort out her thoughts, to be of use. A place where she could get some fresh air and make decisions _without_ the constant distraction of Peeta and Finnick and Annie. Things would be better without her here. It was for the best.

She gets to her room and packs her things, leaving a note to Prim and her mother that she'll be gone for a while and not to worry, and notices that already she feels lighter, as though a weight has been lifted.

Yes. This was just what she needed.

She grabs her gear and meets Cressida and her propo team outside her room, nodding to let them know she's ready, and follows after them in the direction of the hangars housing the hovercrafts.

And thus began her journey to Two.

* * *

**A/N: So how was it? I have to say, I'm a little nervous about this one, as this is my first time going off the books rather than the movies (it's a lot easier just going off the movies, there's not as much detail and I feel like I can play around more with the story) and I really don't want it to seem like a total copy or knockoff of Mockingjay with a little bit of Finniss thrown in. **

**So please share your thoughts (if you want, of course) :)**

**'Til next time!**


	22. Pt IV: Draft to Breeze

**A/N: 09/13/2015 Back again! :D**

**Thanks to Guest, Flames of Sage, Guest, and elfielovesbooks **

**A Huge Fan****: I've thought a lot about Finnick and Annie's wedding and what to do with it. No, they're not going to get married. Like you said, it would only make things that much more complicated for Katniss and Finnick. I don't wanna spoil anything though, so you'll see what I've got planned for that in the next chapter ;)**

**Keeper****: Heck no I'm not going to kill Finnick! Just the _thought_ is just...gah, I can't even! Killing Finnick is fanfiction blasphemy! And it shall not be committed in this story! D:**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 22 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 37 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-two: Draft to Breeze~

* * *

Life in District 2 is not at all what Katniss expects.

She expected fighting and shooting and explosions and battle, not visiting the wounded and recording propos and helping families catch dinner. She wants to say she's disappointed with the lack of action going on around her – after all, she had begged Plutarch to send her here so she could be distracted with work related to the rebellion, not menial tasks like de-feathering birds – but in all honesty she's actually glad for it, thankful that she's been allowed some peace and tranquility for once in her hectic life.

Katniss looks up from her task of gutting the deer she had killed earlier in the day, taking in her surroundings.

Lush evergreen trees and fallen leaves greet her at every corner as she sits next to the campfire. She could hear the calls of various birds and animals ringing throughout the forest, and not a single scream or gunshot could be heard for miles. The deer she was preparing was meant as a 'thank you' gift for the family she was staying with, one of the few groups of souls kind enough to take her and her propo team in during their stay in Two.

She closes her eyes and breathes in, taking in the subtle scent of pine trees and nature.

She had truly missed this about her home; the natural colors of tree bark and grass, the sounds of birds and crickets, the smell of wild herbs and fresh air, the inner sense of peace it brought her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt it, felt at home. The Capitol's need for concrete and vibrant colors and computer-controlled lifestyles where everything was available at the touch of a button was hardly a vacation, and in her mind her hunting trip with Gale all those weeks ago didn't count because the woods and wilderness outside District 13 was dead and broken, hardly as real and alive as she felt now.

She had been here for a couple of weeks now, and the only technology she handled nowadays was the video call device Plutarch used to contact her. She didn't know why, but for some reason the gamemaker felt he needed to let her know how Peeta was doing, even though no true progress was being made. He called every day without fail, telling her how they were trying all these new things and that he really thought Annie was getting through to him, and how they all missed her.

Finnick was a sensitive subject, and Plutarch knew better than to breach it with every call he made, but every now and then he'd mention how he was doing, always alluding to the fact that he was miserable without her. She knew better than to believe this, of course, but there was still some part of her that held out hope. And maybe, when she returned to District 13, she would be brave and strong enough to sit down and talk with him about it. About them, about Peeta, about Annie. Maybe they could mend some of what they had...

Katniss blinks her eyes and clears her throat, snapping out of her trance and going back to gutting the deer.

Of _course_ they couldn't get back what they had. Finnick had Annie now. And although she suspected there was more to Finnick's actions than what was on the surface, she also knew that he wouldn't leave her for anything. Just like she wouldn't leave Peeta.

They were both stubborn, they refused to give up on the people they cared about, even to the point of sacrificing their own happiness. Martyrs. And though they both knew it would be their undoing, they also weren't going to stop. Like a train headed for a cliff, they would steam right along until it all finally clicked and everything blew up in their faces. They truly were birds of a feather.

She grips her knife and tears into the skinned deer, losing herself in the focused task of feeding the hungry family waiting for her.

* * *

About two or three more days have passed when Gale comes to join her in District 2.

She doesn't expect the company – she's perfectly occupied de-feathering her latest bird when he comes randomly strolling into camp to help her – but she doesn't reject it either. She can't say that she _wants_ Gale there, helping her with menial chores that she could easily do herself and reminding her of all the troubles thar are waiting for her, but of all the faces from District 13 to have to see again on such short notice, she's glad that it's her friend's and not someone else's.

They spend the first few hours helping out around the village she and her team are currently staying in, and decide to go hunting afterward.

It starts out fairly normal – she and Gale have hunted together countless times, and so it comes rather naturally to her to let her guard down and feel at ease in his presence – but when they try to start up a conversation and get some decent words flowing between them, things get awkward.

Gale mentions girls in District 12 and the topic eventually gets onto relationships and kissing, and Katniss immediately begins feeling uncomfortable. She wishes they could just turn back and abandon their silly 'hunting trip' with each step they take into the woods, but says nothing to voice her thoughts on the matter as Gale continues his tirade – whether knowingly or not – beside her.

"Yeah, Darius was always real sweet on you now that I think about it," he says offhandedly, and she mentally rolls her eyes.

"By 'sweet', _surely_ you mean just joking around," she corrects. "Darius was never serious about any of the things he said to me."

"Maybe," Gale says, looking down at his feet as they step over a log. "But I guess we'll never know."

She stills for a moment, taking in the brunt of his words. He was right. They would never know. Because District 12 is gone, and Darius is dead. The fact has always been there, but it's only now that it's ever been brought to light. It's a simple thing, insignificant in the grand scheme of things – the Capitol, Snow, the rebellion – but the weight it holds is far more than she'd been bargaining for when she agreed to go hunting with Gale. She swallows down the pebble in her throat and quickly moves on, stepping over the log and catching up with her friend before he realizes how far she's fallen behind.

She trots up to him and reclaims her place at his side, hefting her bow back onto her shoulder when it begins to fall off, and says nothing as they continue their hunt. They walk a few more paces, both silent, when Gale suddenly stops and turns to her, his heavy boots crunching fallen leaves as he comes to a halt.

"Pick Peeta." He says, and her mouth falls open in shock. "Pick me. Hell, pick _Finnick_. I know you slept with him."

Her eyes grow wide, cheeks flushing at his crude and misinformed statement. "Gale!"

He ignores her. "You're gonna have to make a choice sooner or later. You can't just keep us all on the sidelines while we wait for you to make a decision. You need to _choose_."

"Gale, I-"

"And it needs to be _soon_." He finishes, looking her dead in the eye.

His expression is completely serious – no uncertainty and no fuss – and though she doesn't want to face it, least of all when they're supposed to be relaxing, she knows that he's right. She's been putting if off for as long as she can, and if she doesn't make a choice soon then it's quite possible that she will lose all of them. Hell, she had already lost one. Peeta wasn't rescued fast enough, and now he wanted nothing to do with her.

She looks down at the fallen leaves below the soles of her boots, avoiding her friend's gaze and trying to come up with a reply.

"...You don't know Finnick if you think he would love me," she says, voice low with sadness as she shakes her head.

"Well I don't think you know him if you think that he wouldn't," Gale counters, staring at her. "I've seen how he is around you. How he is with Annie. And I can tell you right now that they're not the same."

_Of _course _they're not the same,_ she wants to scream. _Finnick loves Annie! Not me!_

"Gale-"

"No. Just hear me out," he pleads, holding up his hands and coming closer. She almost laughs; he approaches her like she's a scared animal. Though with everything that's happening these days, she might as well be.

"Look," he says, gazing down at her. "All I'm saying is that he doesn't look at you the same way he looks at her. He doesn't. And, I don't know how you feel about him, but it's pretty obvious the way he feels about you."

She softly scoffs and averts her eyes, wanting nothing more than to _not_ have this conversation with her best friend. She wants him to shut up so they can get back to hunting, but she knows by the tone of his voice and the way he stands with all his weight onto one side that he's been pondering this for a while now, and if she doesn't let him get it out right this moment she'll have to deal with it for the rest of their time out here.

"I'm not stupid. I know the two of you had something going on. I don't know what, exactly, or for how long, but it's pretty clear that you weren't just a couple of friends comforting each other in their time of need."

She blushes, looking out at a faraway tree in shame.

"I'm not saying you're in the wrong," he goes on to say. "I mean after all, you've said it yourself that you never loved Peeta. And Finnick...I don't even _know_ what his deal is with Annie. But if you're wondering how he's holding up without you there...he's not."

She looks up, brows knitting. "What do you mean he's not?"

"Just what I said," he answers, nodding to emphasize his point. "The only thing keeping him going is Annie, and that's clearly just a ruse to make her believe that everything's fine. _He_ _needs_ _you._ And I know you probably don't believe it with everything that's happened, but he does. And after we get back, the _second_ you set foot in District 13 again, you need to see him."

She looks down at her feet and takes a slow, shaky breath. It was scary, the idea of seeing Finnick again after so long of an absence, but she knew that Gale was right; if she never spoke to him, never addressed the issue of what needed to be said, then she might as well give him up right then.

She nods, blinking away any trace of tears in her eyes as she looks back up at her friend. "...Okay. Okay, you're right. I'll talk to him once we get back."

Gale nods, glad that he's gotten his point across, and angles himself slightly to the right as he looks out at the wilderness ahead of them.

"...You know I just want you to be happy, right? Don't make any decisions based on me or Peeta or Finnick or anyone else. No matter who you choose, make sure it's for you. Not to keep one of us happy."

She stares at him, taking in the sincerity of his words, and slowly nods. "...Yeah. Yeah, I - I will."

He nods. "Good. Now let's get back to hunting. I'm sick of this mushy-gushy crap."

Katniss chuckles and he smirks, and just like that, all is right again.

They continue their trek into the woods, not once enduring an awkward or tense moment as they keep their mouths closed and their eyes set on dinner.

* * *

The next morning, Cressida informs them that Lyme, District Two's Victor and leader of the resistance for said district, wants to see them.

She takes them to an inconspicuous building in the heart of the village, and Katniss is thrust alongside Gale into a room full of hushed voices and unfamiliar faces, all crowded around a table in the center of the room. Beetee and Boggs are the only ones she recognizes after moments of searching, and the military commander nods in the direction behind him to signal they stand there and wait. They do as instructed, and proceed to listen and try and make sense of what the topic of debate is.

"For the last time, we can't storm the entrances!" Lyme shouts firmly, smacking the sheets of schematics resting on the table. "We've tried it time and time again and it's _never._ _Worked_."

"I'm not _saying_ we should storm them!" A stranger shouts back. "Just to draw them out so we can-"

Lyme laughs and shakes her head. "No, I don't think so. Nothing in the form of a frontal assault _has_ worked, or _will_ work. End of story. Now we've already gone over the schematics of the Nut and it's completely impenetrable from an air strike thanks to it being built inside of a mountain, so bombers are out of the question. I am at my wit's end here, so someone _please_ come up with something good, because if I hear anyone – anyone! - suggest we storm the front gates again, _they_ will be the one leading the mission to do just that!"

It's silent for a very long time, and Katniss feels as though she should be the one to contribute with at least something. The goal of the rebel forces in District 2 for the past month has been to take back the Nut - the compound housing the chief of the Capitol's military resources - from the Capitol's forces and to either capture or kill the remaining people inside. The Nut was built with the intention of taking the place of District 13 after it had collapsed, which had originally been the Capitol's go-to place for military power. As such, it was only logical that they place their store of weapons and infantry in a safe location; thus, the mountain.

She knew there was a way to get inside – there _had_ to be, every structure had its weakness – but she simply can't think of what it could possibly be. And so, as the seconds pass and the room stays silent, she keeps her mouth closed and any half-witted opinions to herself. At over six feet tall and a Victor of the Games, Lyme is the last person she wants to mess with.

It's nearing thirty seconds of silence when someone finally decides to come forward with a plan.

"What if we disable it?" Gale says, and Katniss feels the need to step away from him as everyone stares.

"Well, well," Lyme says, cocking her head and crossing her arms. "Of all the people; we got a smart guy here. Normally I would write you off and send you on your way, but at this point I'll take anything. What do you mean disable it?"

"Well you keep acting like we need to take the Nut," he says, growing bolder as he steps forward. "But we've already got everything we need from 13. So what if we just disabled it instead of taking it over?"

"How?" Boggs asks. "We've already tried bombing the entrances. The Nut is built into a mountain so no real damage can be done."

"We can _use_ the mountain to our advantage," Gale says, and confusion passes over everyone's faces.

"Look," he says, coming to stand at the edge of the table and activating a hologram of the Nut. "See how there's entrances on either side? If we timed it right, we could create-"

"An avalanche," Beetee finishes under his breath, amazed. "It wouldn't be easy. We'd have to time the detonations just right, and once it starts, there's no stopping it."

"We don't need to worry about stopping it if we forget about taking back the Nut," Gale replies, as though he's already thought of this.

"So you're saying we should start a natural disaster to block the entrances?" Lyme says sarcastically, and Gale nods. "...I like it."

Finally finding her voice, Katniss speaks up. "No! If we do that, we'll kill everyone inside!" Everyone looks at her, and she points at the hologram. "Look. They get all their air from the mountainsides! They'll suffocate!"

"They can still escape through the train tunnel," offers Beetee, pointing to another spot on the hologram. "They can survive, and they'll be forced to emerge in the town square where we can be waiting for them. No harm done."

"Unless we blow it up," Gale tosses offhandedly.

She looks to the ceiling and purses her lips in frustration. "But we can't-"

"Look, Katniss," Boggs says, tone comforting. "I don't like it either. But Gale's right, it's the best chance we've got. Now we'll leave the train tunnels _open_-" he pauses to give Gale a pointed look. "-and when they make it to the square we'll take them as prisoners. No one has to die."

She take a second to normalize her breathing – her throat is still a little raspy from her neck injury – and slowly nods, smiling to show Boggs her appreciation. There's a loud clap, and everyone turns their heads towards Lyme as she gets their attention.

"Great. Looks like we've got a plan."

"Not yet," Beetee says. "We need to bring 13 into this. Make sure President Coin is on board. When you think about all the variables – casualties, wounded, after-effects of the avalanche – it's at least worth a conversation."

Lyme nods in agreement, and Beetee looks at Katniss and Gale with an almost regretful stare.

"Gale? Katniss? You think you could give us a minute?"

"A _few_ minutes?" Lyme corrects.

Exhaling some of her anger, Katniss nods and so does Gale. Boggs gives her a half-smile and a pat on the shoulder, and she and Gale leave through the exit with everyone else that's 'not qualified' to be present during the conversation.

As they exit the stifling room and step out into the afternoon air, she can't decide which is more startling; the fact that Gale was the one to come up with such a sound plan so quickly or that he genuinely didn't care who got killed in the process.

* * *

As expected, Coin agrees to Gale's plan, and within hours Katniss is fitted with her Mockingjay costume and bow, as well as an earpiece that connects her to Haymitch in 13; just in case an opportunity for a good propo comes up.

She stands with her propo team and countless others on the roof of the Justice Building, waiting with baited breath as the first of their planes heads out to the Nut.

It happens fast, faster than she would have thought possible, and by the time the commanders in the Nut realize what they've done, it's too late; the bombs are dropped and the mountainsides shift from unstable to out of control, and they watch as heaps upon heaps of rock and rubble are jettisoned down the mountain. It's a slow, fluid thing from where they're standing on the rooftop, thousands and thousands of feet away, but she knows that avalanches are anything but.

The entrances of the Nut are sealed within seconds, and a large cloud of dust and dirt muddy up the sky. But she's not thinking about the sky, or the dirt, or the pollution from the bombs. She's thinking about what's going on inside the mountain. She imagines panic, like what she had experienced in District 13 when Peeta warned them about the oncoming attack; alarms blaring, lights flickering, hundreds of screaming people all flying past you to try and get somewhere safe. She thinks of how terrifying it was not knowing where her sister had been, and whether or not she had made it to the bunker.

But it wasn't the same. Everyone had survived the Capitol's air raid. Peeta had warned them. There was no one to warn these people, these people who were probably just as scared of her as she was of them, and the likeliness of there being survivors was slim. All this time, her entire stay here had been about taking that mountain. Everyone demonized the people inside that compound, damning them before they even stopped to think about who they were damning.

They were just like the Capitol.

They were no better.

_She_ was no better.

And as the dust settled and she stared with everyone else at the destruction they had just witnessed, at the waste they had helped lay, only one thought entered her mind:

_What have we done?_

"Katniss..._Katniss_!"

Haymitch's voice penetrates her right ear through the microphone Cressida and Pollux had hooked up to her, and he has to shout her name several more times for it to register that she needs to answer back.

She presses the earpiece further into her ear, turning away from the sight of the avalanche and blinking away the wetness in her eyes. "Yeah?"

He sighs in relief when she answers, and goes on to instruct her of her next move. "Get back inside the Justice Building. We don't want to risk the Capitol retaliating with whatever's left of their air force."

She nods, even though he can't see it. "Okay."

She moves towards the stairwell and makes her way to the ground floor, stopping at the bottom of a short flight of steps to sit down and wait.

Everyone else from the rooftop eventually comes down as well, either staying inside to seek refuge or to go join the fighting outside. It's quiet, but only in the way of words. No one speaks, they just listen; the sound of gunshots and shouting and stamping feet all roll in from the open doors of the Justice Building. Even if someone did want to speak, the sounds of war and battle ensured a rather negative conversation. And on top of that, there wasn't much to say.

Katniss draws her knees closer to her chest as she sits on the steps, suddenly freezing as the excitement and adrenaline wears off and the cold night breeze wafts in through the door.

"...There's been some progress with Peeta," Haymitch suddenly says, and she tenses.

She doesn't necessarily believe him, but she knows that her Mentor isn't nearly as optimistic about Peeta as Plutarch is, so when he says there's been progress, there truly has.

"We showed him one of your propos, 'The Hanging Tree'," he elaborates. "He'd never seen it, so the Capitol couldn't use it when they hijacked him."

"And?" She asks, almost hesitantly.

"He says he recognized the song."

"But he's never heard me-"

"Not from you," he corrects. "From your father. Apparently he heard him singing it one day back in District 12, and he remembered it specifically because he was listening to see if the birds stopped singing."

She blinks. _Oh_.

"Look, I know it's not much," Haymitch admits. "But it's the first he's seen of you that hasn't triggered a meltdown. So at least it's something."

She stares at the clean, reflective floors beneath her feet, letting his words sink in. "...Thank you, Haymitch."

"Don't thank me," he says. "It was Annie's idea."

Her head snaps up, even though there's nothing to look at. "Annie?"

"I know, right?" He chuckles. "She was talking with him one day and she mentioned how you had been doing propos. At first Peeta didn't care to listen too much, but when she mentioned the – and I quote – 'beautiful song' you sung in one of them it got his attention."

Katniss says nothing. How could she? There were no words to describe her feelings right now. She was grateful, ever so grateful, that Annie would take the time out of her day to make such progress with Peeta. To think that she would risk her own safety to bring him back to her, was beyond words or mere appreciation. But how far did it extend? Was it really her that Peeta would come to like and respect in the days ahead? Or was it Annie? Plutarch had always mentioned Annie spending time with him during their video calls, but she never really thought much of it. She supposed that their being together for so long in the Capitol would have created some sort of bond or kinship, but she never would have guessed that it would go so far.

It wasn't that she was afraid of Annie and Peeta growing close. It was that she was afraid of them growing _too_ close. She wasn't scared to admit to herself that she didn't love Peeta anymore, but what if she came back and nothing had really changed? What if Peeta still wanted to choke the life out of her, and the only difference was that Annie Cresta had made her way into his heart?

She wasn't jealous of Annie. She wasn't. At least not with Peeta. But she was afraid that, if things kept going the way they were, she would lose him and Annie would get hurt. And she didn't want that. She supposed that she just didn't want to be replaced – some selfish part of her still wanted to remain friends with Peeta, if only from a distance – and if Annie was truly making such progress, was getting through to him so much faster than she ever could, what then? What would become of the Girl on Fire and the Boy with the Bread? Would they continue to exist? Or would they burn away with the flames of torture and war?

She didn't know. But what she did know was that she wasn't ready to give that up - that perfect image of who she and Peeta were before all of this - not yet, and she could never truly repay Annie Cresta for what she was doing, or for what she had already done.

"Thank you for telling me, Haymitch." She says, finally finding her voice. "Tell Annie I appreciate what she's done."

Haymitch's voice is soft when he answers. "Sure thing, Katniss."

The line goes silent between them, and neither Victor nor Mentor make another sound as they wait for something to happen regarding the Nut and its survivors.

She looks out through the set of open doors leading outside the Justice Building, keeping an eye out for anything unusual or interesting as gunshots begin to ring out in an endless spurt from all around. She sees Gale and a group of others run past the open space for a moment as they rush to join the battle. She can't fathom how Gale can be so willing, so eager to join in on a killing spree befitting the Capitol.

But then again, she can't really fathom much of anything these days.

* * *

Finnick stays silent as he lays beside Annie on the couch in District 13.

Annie couldn't sleep, so he had taken her into one of the lounges and turned on the tv to pass the time. It was well past midnight, and though he was tired, it was the least he could do to stay up with her. She had been doing a lot better lately – little to no nightmares with the exception of tonight - though he wasn't sure if it was because of him or Peeta. The red-haired girl spent most every day with him now, talking and smiling like there was no tomorrow, only seeing him when it was time to go to bed. Not that he minded. In fact, he was glad for it, because how was he supposed to tell her that he didn't love her anymore, and probably never did?

Thoughts of Katniss flood his mind, and he's suddenly taken back to the last time he saw her, to when Annie had gone in to talk with Peeta. The look in her eyes, the sadness and betrayal, the way she stared at him as though he were the most vile thing on the planet...he'd never felt so horrible. And he couldn't even explain himself because Katniss was gone.

He knew why she had left, of course. He knew that she didn't approve of the way he had handled Annie's return. But what was he supposed to do? Reject her? Push her away? He was afraid of what would happen to Annie's mental state if she knew that he didn't love her, though he honestly doubted if she hadn't seen he and Katniss' shared kiss during the Quell. She probably thought it was just a ploy or ruse on his part, or that he was forced to do it. And he didn't have the guts to tell her it was real.

"Hey look, it's Katniss!"

His thoughts are yanked back to the present, and Finnick turns his gaze from the floor to the television on the wall, following Annie's slender finger as she points at the screen.

She was right. It was Katniss.

He immediately turns his head in search for a remote, and Annie reaches over across the couch to the object he desires and hands it to him. He turns up the volume, impatient to hear what she's trying to say.

"...Katniss Everdeen speaking to you live from your Justice Building, where we have just taken-"

A loud metallic screeching drowns out her voice, and both she and the camera turn to the sight of two trains barreling into the station, countless people bursting from the side doors as they drop to the ground coughing and gagging. The lights illuminating Katniss' figure go dark, and they're left with a shot of thick, black smoke as it billows out of one of the trains and people move about in confusion, waving their guns around in every direction.

One person in particular, a man, makes it farther than all the rest, and he staggers aimlessly a few steps from the smoke before collapsing in the middle of the square, his entire body smoking from being inside the burning train.

Finnick's breath nearly stops short when he sees Katniss dart out in front of the camera, yelling for the rebels to hold their fire as she makes her way towards the injured man. She leans down to help him up, but he staggers to his feet before she can even touch him and trains his gun on her head.

She freezes, holding her arms up as they stare at one another, and Annie gasps beside him as he looks on with wide eyes.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you," the stranger says, tightening his grip on his weapon.

Katniss is silent for a few moments, trying to think of a reason good enough to give him, before finally shaking her head and sadly replying, "...I can't."

The man seems confused by this, and she's quick to elaborate on her choice of words before something bad happens.

"I can't," she says again. "And that's the problem, isn't it? I can't give you a reason. I've done things that are...unforgivable. I don't deserve to live. I helped bring down your safe haven. I stood by as they dropped the bombs that started that avalanche. You have every reason to kill me...so do it."

Finnick's heart speeds in anxiousness. _What was she doing? Was she _trying _to get herself killed? What the hell was wrong with her?_

"Do it." She says again. "Make the Capitol happy. Make _Snow_ happy. Do what everyone's been trying to do from the start. Kill me. Because I'm done killing their slaves for them."

She takes her bow off her shoulder and slowly lowers it to the ground, kicking it towards his feet.

This seems to spark something within the man, because a flicker of uncertainty flashes across his face.

"...I'm not their slave." he whispers, eyes firmly set on hers.

"I am," she says. "That's why I've killed who I've killed. It's why _they've_ killed who they've killed. It's why I have done _everything_ the Capitol has asked me to up until now. It just keeps going around and around, and nobody wins. No one but the Capitol."

Finnick watches as Katniss lowers her gaze to the ground and a look of silent contemplation crosses her face, and she looks back up a moment later to give one last thought to the man with the gun.

"When I saw that avalanche, I thought, what have we done? What did we just do? What kind of atrocity did we just commit in the name of the rebellion? We're no better than you, than the Capitol; we're fighting each other when we should be fighting Snow. We are not your enemies. Snow is. In all your life, did you ever think that you would be pitted against your neighbors? Against your friends? Against your_ family?_"

The man's lips quiver. "N...no."

Katniss turns to gesture to the rebels behind her. "Then why are you? Is it because of me? The rebellion? Or is it because of Snow, and the Capitol's sick efforts to get you turn against your own kin? These people, the rebels...they are _not_ your enemy. Snow is. The _Capitol_ is. They're the reason we're fighting right now, the reason we've lost so many. And if we want to stop it – if _you_ want to stop it – then we need to band together. We can take them down once and for all, but we need _every_ district man and woman to do it!"

She looks out at the crowd, at the rebels and the people from the trains, at all the fearful and uncertain faces, and the camera dramatically zooms out to show the multitude of people listening. "So please! Join us! Help us take down Snow! And we can _show_ you a better life than this!"

Everything goes silent as her words hang in the air, and they watch as the camera zooms in on the many faces of the people in District 2, panning slowly over every man, woman, and child as they decide whether or not Katniss is sincere.

Everyone expects a moment, a miracle where someone steps forward to switch sides.

No one expects The Mockingjay to be shot.

The sound of a single gunshot thunders through the open air and everyone begins running as Katniss falls to the ground.

Finnick's heart clenches in panic, Annie's fearful squeak deaf to his ears as he jerks forward and stands up from the couch, breath seizing in his throat.

There are shouts and screams and running and gunfire, and he's just able to make out Katniss' propo team rushing out to her before the camera swivels to the right and goes blank. It's deadly quiet after that, an eerie silence filling the dark room and weighing down on them, both taking in what they had just seen.

Katniss had been shot. She had been _shot._ She could have been-

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will the thought to go away.

No.

No no no no no no no.

She couldn't be dead.

She couldn't.

There was no way that after all that, after all she had done, she would die from a single bullet. There wasn't. Not when she had already come so far. Not when-

"Finnick?"

Swallowing down his fear, he turns around to look at Annie. Her face is etched with fright and concern, and he has to fight with every ounce of will in him to not let himself break down right in front of her.

"Do you think Katniss is alright?" She asks, timid eyes searching his.

Gathering himself, he walks back to the couch and sits down, staring at her and then at the floor as he tries to piece everything together.

He slowly begins shaking his head, staring out into space as he whispers forlornly, "...I don't know."

It's an honest answer, and though it neither denies nor confirms Katniss' death, it's clear that he has his doubts. It's terrible, an awful thing to assume about someone - about anyone, really – but it's all he can give. Annie scooches closer and pulls him into her arms, holding him tight as she shushes and soothes him and kisses his head.

He lets himself be comforted by her, even though in the end it was only leading her on, and focuses instead on controlling the size of the rock that's suddenly lodged in his throat. Tears sting at his eyes but he blinks them back, not wanting Annie or anyone else to see how weak he is at the moment, and closes his eyes as he tries to keep his breathing steady.

He never had the chance to tell her. How much she meant to him. How much he cared. How she didn't have to worry about Annie or Peeta. How beautiful she was. He never told her, never took the time to explain how much he loved her and how hard it was to see her suffer at his own hands when Annie had come back into the picture, never assured her that everything was going to be okay between them, never made it clear how he felt about her before she left.

He never told her.

And now he might never get to.

* * *

**A/N: Boom, drama! I'm not too sure about how accurately I've written Annie's character. She's not really in THG that much from what I've seen and so I'm mostly just going on instinct and assumptions. **

**So yeah, be sure and share your thoughts on this chapter if you're so inclined. I'd love to see what you think :)**

**'Til next time!**


	23. Pt IV: Breeze to Gust

**A/N: 09/20/2015 I honestly did not mean for this chapter to be so long. It just turned out that way. I thought of splitting it into two chapters, but I remembered all the previous chapters I've posted that are about just as long, so I left it alone. You don't mind, right?**

**Thank you elfielovesbooks, Flames Of Sage, cuacuaro, Guest, leiastar, XenaTheDog, Heslen, A Huge Fan, Kitty Amadeus (your avatar is truly the cutest thing I have ever seen), and Keeper for your reviews ;)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 27 mins or less**

**if you're slow: 46 mins or less (eek!)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-three: Breeze to Gust~

* * *

When Katniss slowly opens her eyes, the last thing she expects to see is the group of people crowded around her bed.

Gale's is the first face she sees, and she immediately begins to recognize Boggs, Cressida, Pollux, Mesalla, Castor, and Lyme as well. She slowly blinks the blurriness from her eyes, attempting to get up.

"Woah, hey," Gale says softly, reaching out to stop her. "You shouldn't move just yet. Your spleen's ruptured."

She knits her eyebrows. _Her spleen was ruptured? When did that happen?_

And then she remembers. The Nut. The avalanche. The man. The gunshot.

Katniss softly scoffs and lowers her head, tiredly rubbing her eyes. "What happened? Did that man-"

"He's alive," Gale says. "He's not the one who shot you, but we got the guy that did."

She stares at her hospital sheets, nodding to show that she understands.

"How are you feeling, Katniss?" Cressida asks. "Coin wants us to shoot a quick propo of you in your hospital bed to show that you're still alive. I know it's sudden and you need your rest, but you _did_ just get shot on national television."

Oh yeah, that's right. She was doing a broadcast when that happened. The entire _world_ must have thought she was dead.

She looks up at the tattooed woman and nods, squeezing her eyes shut when the light becomes too much. "Um...yeah. Yeah, sure, I- I can do that."

Cressida smiles. "Great. Pollux, Castor, you set up over there. Messalla and I will get an angle from over here."

Katniss sighs, and everyone begins exiting the room to let her propo team do their thing. Gale rests his hand on hers and gives her a comforting smile before he leaves, and Lyme and Boggs both nod their acknowledgement of her as they walk out the door.

"Okay, we'll try and make this quick," Cressida says, getting her camera ready as Messalla gives her a mic. "Coin wants you back in District 13 as soon as possible. Wants you to be there for Finnick and Annie's wedding."

Her head shoots up, eyes wide as she registers what she's said. "...Wedding?"

"Yeah," she says offhandedly, not looking at her as she fiddles with her camera. "Plutarch suggested they record their wedding so Panem can know that they're still going strong despite Annie's torture. I'm surprised someone didn't tell you. You ready?"

Katniss shakily exhales, slowly turning her gaze away from Cressida and staring off into space.

_Married? Finnick and Annie were getting married? How could that be? He said that he loved her. Not Annie. He had said time and time again that he wanted to be with her, that he loved her, going so far as to risk his life to save hers...how could that be?_

Tears spring in her eyes of their own accord, and she sits there in her hospital bed staring at the wall and finding it harder and harder to breath, though she barely notices the changes.

Because Finnick is getting married, and she's the last person to know.

Her worst fears have finally been solidified, taking form in the worst way possible. He was going to bind himself to Annie in a way that couldn't be undone, and she was going to have to sit back and watch. President Snow couldn't have been crueler.

She supposed that she should have seen it coming; after all, what did she expect when they rescued Peeta and Annie? That they would go about their lives and live happily ever after together with their old flames somewhere in the background? No. That could never happen. It _wasn't_ happening. Peeta and Annie had been back for a month and things were just getting worse and worse between her and Finnick. They were drifting farther and farther apart, and there was nothing she could do. And this was the final act that would sever whatever they had for good.

Katniss swallows down the lump in her throat, sniffling as she tries to stop her quivering lip and quickened breathing.

Her emotions are skyrocketing right now, going off like fireworks in her heart and stomach and head, spiraling off one another. Fear, confusion, heartbreak, sadness, abandonment, isolation; they all swirl to a climax, melding together to create an entirely different emotion, one she hasn't felt in a very long time:

Anger.

_How dare he. How dare he! How could he do that do her? Who did he think he was? Going behind her back and having a 'secret' wedding? All those lies and fake kisses and deceptively sweet words. What was she? Some cheap replacement for the girl he thought he would never get back? Who the hell did he think he was messing with?_

"Katniss?" Cressida asks, staring at her with concern. "Katniss, are you alright?"

She doesn't answer her. She doesn't need to. Because anyone who can see her can easily tell; _no_, she is _not_ alright. The rock in her throat disappears and the quiver in her lip diminishes and the tears stop coming, and everything within her is replaced with fire and heat, so bright and hot that she can barely contain it. Her breathes come in strong, hot blasts, and her gaze could set even the most inanimate of objects on fire.

No pain.

No sadness.

Only anger.

She feels it in her bones, creeping all throughout her system and tainting any sense of brokenness or hurt she may have felt, overtaking them for something so much stronger and so much more alive.

She looks to Cressida, whose expression is a mix of confusion and horror, and says, "Yes. I'm absolutely fine."

She doesn't get sad.

Or crushed. Or depressed. Or heartbroken.

She gets angry.

* * *

Annie fidgets nervously with her hands as she watches Finnick pace about the room.

He didn't sleep at all last night. Ever since Katniss had been shot in District 2, he'd been rapidly spiraling into a manic state, becoming more and more agitated and more and more irritable. He tried to hide it, she knew he did, but now he was finally at his breaking point.

It had only happened twice before in all the time she'd known him, and it was never over her. She didn't quite know what to make of it, but she knew that Finnick would never be so worried about someone that wasn't special to him. And though she had only spent the briefest of times in her presence, she was smart enough to know that Katniss Everdeen was special.

Annie stops fidgeting and moves out of the doorway of his room, deciding to try and calm him down. She slowly walks up to him and places a hand on his shoulder, comforting words ready on her lips.

"Finnick, I'm sure that-"

He whirls around to face her, jerking away from her touch.

"_What_?" He snaps. "You're sure that _what_?"

Words fail her, and she gapes at him in complete shock.

He had _never_ been this hostile before, least of all with her. And to think that another woman, a near stranger to her, was behind the cause of it...

Finnick deflates in front of her, losing his steam and softening his expression when he realizes the mistake he's made.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I'm just...tired."

"Worried," she corrects, smiling. "You're _worried._ It's okay. I get it. I'm worried too."

_Just not as much as you are._

Finnick sighs and runs a hand through his hair, still clearly stressed but significantly better than before, and closes his eyes. She reaches up and cups his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb, and he opens his eyes to smile softly down at her as she does the same. He covers her hand with his, and she gazes comfortingly at him with all the support she can muster.

"You should go see President Coin," she whispers softly. "If anyone knows what's going on in District 2, it's her."

He nods, rationality returning to him. "...Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I should go."

He gently lowers her hand from his face and breaks away from her, walking to the door as he intends to head towards Coin's office.

"Hey," he calls, and she turns around to see him standing in the doorway. "You coming?"

She inhales and opens her mouth, blushing in slight embarrassment. "Oh, um...I- I can't. I need to go see Peeta. He's still pretty confused about Katniss and doesn't really know what to think of her, so...yeah."

She grows very self-conscious and begins wringing her hands and looking at the floor, unsure of how he'll react to her blatant rejection of joining him when he needs her and seems to genuinely want her to come, but he plays it off as though it's nothing to be worried about and wishes her luck, something he's been doing quite a lot lately since she got rescued.

"Oh...okay, then. Well I'm gonna go and see what Coin knows...good luck with Peeta."

She smiles. "Thanks. You too."

He smiles in return and disappears around the corner, and she sighs in relief.

She doesn't know why, but she feels..._guilty_, for wanting to spend time with Peeta rather than Finnick. She still loved him - at least she was _pretty_ sure she still loved him – but his problems would all be sorted soon enough. He was strong, and she knew this, and he would get through it. Peeta, on the other hand, was still fragile and hurt and confused and needed her help. At least, that's what she told herself as she made her way to his cell.

Annie stands motionless as a guard clears her to go inside, and she enters the room where Peeta has been held since coming to District 13.

"Hey," she says softly, smiling.

Peeta looks up, eyes alight as he sees her face, and replies, "Hey."

"How are you?" She asks, shifting slightly towards the table he's sitting at. "Did Coin give you that decent meal I asked her for?"

He nods, tense muscles slowly relaxing as he rests his arms on the cold metal table. "Yeah. She did. Thanks for that."

Her smile stretches. "You're welcome."

There's a few moments of silence between them, and she starts to wring her hands and look towards the floor in self-consciousness and worry, afraid of what she should say next, or if she should say anything at all-

"You can sit down, you know."

She looks up, eyes locking with his. "What?"

"You can sit down," he repeats, gesturing to the chair opposite him. "I mean you practically _live_ here now, so might as well."

She blushes, looking down at her feet. "Oh. Um...I- I'm sorry if I-"

"Stop."

She blushes harder, timidly meeting his gaze as he stares firmly at her. "S- stop what?"

"What you're doing," he says, waving at her with his arm. "Fidgeting and acting like every little thing you do needs to be apologized for. If I didn't want you here, I'd let you know."

It's a rather blunt and harsh statement, but it's true; in all the weeks she had come to know Peeta, he never lied to her about how he felt. It just wasn't in his handbook. And she respected him for that, for his honesty. And really, given the circumstances surrounding his torture and hijacking, she couldn't expect him to be any gentler with his words than he already had been.

The awkward weight lifts from her shoulders and she moves toward him, oddly happy that he doesn't want her gone. She sits herself down in the chair across from him, and Peeta stares wordlessly at her as she makes herself comfortable.

"I'm glad you came," he whispers, giving the slightest of half-smiles.

Her eyes widen the smallest fraction, and a slow but sure smile comes to her lips. "...Thank you."

He nods, and the two spend the next twenty minutes talking about dogs, food, Katniss Everdeen, and sweet nothings.

* * *

When Finnick arrives at Coin's office, she isn't there.

He looks the small room over about ten times before finally accepting that he'll have to look elsewhere, and he immediately leaves for Command.

_Of all the times to be absent..._

He scoffs to himself, angry that the District 13 leader wasn't exactly where he needed her. Stuck-up bitch. He never really liked Coin to begin with, but now that she was blatantly keeping secrets from him and everyone else about Katniss' whereabouts, his mind was made up. Prim and her mother must have been worried sick.

Finnick stalks up to the set of double-doors leading to Command, smashing the keypad with his thumb and waiting impatiently for the damned machine to read his print. After what feels like an eternity, the doors finally begin to open, and the second a space big enough for him to fit into appears, he slips through. He searches for all of two seconds before his fuming gaze settles on the back of Coin's head (she was apparently busy talking to someone) and he wastes no time in making his presence known.

"Coin!"

The gray-haired woman turns around, eyebrows lifted in attention as she settles her gaze on him.

Finnick was ready to chew her out just for _looking_ at him so obliviously, but words failed him the moment he opened his mouth; because the second she moved aside and revealed the person she was speaking with, all the anger, all the frustration, all the stress and worry, melted effortlessly away as his eyes locked on the young woman standing just yards away.

"...Katniss?"

Katniss' eyes lock with his and they stare at one another, and for the longest of moments neither of them move.

He watches, mesmerized and rooted to the spot as she leaves Coin's side and makes her way towards him, her pace quickening with each step she takes. He only registers the murderous look in her eyes when she's less than two feet away, and so he doesn't suspect a thing when she reels back and socks him right in the face.

She hits him so hard that he spins around and falls to the floor, and he's so confused and disoriented from the blow that he almost forgets where he is.

"You son of a bitch!" Katniss shouts, venom spewing from her mouth as she stands, victorious, above him. "How _could_ you?! After all we've been through!"

Finnick slowly drags himself up into a standing position, cradling his pounding jaw as he focuses on the girl in front of him.

There must be something in his gaze that she doesn't like, because a second later she's lunging at him, Haymitch and Boggs being the only ones to stop her from hitting him a second time.

"Urgh! Let _go_ of me! Let go!"

Finnick watches, shocked as the two men attempt to keep her in their grasp and she continues to try and get to him like a starved animal. She kicks and claws and twists in their grip, and it takes quite a few moments to calm her down to the point of releasing her.

Katniss jerks her arm away from Haymitch, who is the last one to let her go, and heaves in both anger and exhaustion as she gives him the hardest glare he's ever seen.

"...How could you?!" She yells, breath frantic as angry tears come to her eyes. "How could you do this to me?!"

He blinks rapidly, hurt and confusion melding into one as he tries to put his thoughts together. "I...how could I do _what_?"

She scoffs, looking at the ceiling to reign in her tears. "You're seriously gonna make me say it? The _wedding!_ You're getting married to Annie! Or did you forget since I'm suddenly not dead now?"

His eyebrows knit in puzzlement, absolutely floored with this accusation. "..._What?_ I'm not getting married to Annie! What are you talking about?"

There's a beat of silence that passes through the room, and Plutarch sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose beside Coin, clearly displeased with the turn of events.

"Plutarch?" Coin asks, brows furrowed. "Do you know anything about this?"

Everyone turns their attention to the gamemaker, and Plutarch looks regretfully between Finnick and Katniss as he finally decides to share his thoughts.

"Ugh..._Yes_. Yes, I know what the problem is." He looks at Katniss, sympathy and shame in his eyes. "You spoke with Cressida, didn't you?"

Wiping her eyes, Katniss nods. "Yeah. Why?"

Plutarch sighs. "Oh, boy...I asked Cressida and her team if they would be willing to record a propo showing Finnick and Annie getting married."

"What?!" Finnick shouts. "When the hell were you planning on telling me this? On telling _Annie_?"

The gamemaker places his hands together, silently pleading with them to understand. "The script is still in its preliminary stages. _Nothing_ has been finalized yet. We were planning on telling you when everything was set to go."

The faces of nearly everyone present hold the same expression: _oh._

The room falls silent, shame and embarrassment weighing down on everyone there. Katniss doesn't look at Finnick for the longest of times, and when she finally does, it nearly makes his breath stop.

Her eyes, once blazing with revenge and hate, were now dull and sad. It was like the thing that kept her alive and kicking had just suddenly died out, like a bucket of water on a raging campfire. She didn't look like she was going to try and attack him again, but he almost wanted her to if it would get that spark back. She looked tired, and worn and drained, and as he looked closer he saw that she was having trouble balancing herself.

She sways in place, nearly falling backwards before Haymitch catches hold of her. Finnick darts forward to help her to her feet, but one look from her freezes him in place, and he merely watches as she rejects Haymitch's helping hands and rights herself on her own.

"...I'm sorry," she says, looking at the ground. "I shouldn't have done that."

Finnick opens his mouth, about to tell her that it was okay, but after taking a moment to read into her tone he realized that she wasn't speaking to him; she was speaking to Coin, and Plutarch and Boggs and Haymitch, and everyone else that had been unfortunate enough to witness her outburst.

He tries to get her to look at him, but she keeps her gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

"I'll go talk to Peeta," she says abruptly, and before he can even react she's brushing past him and out into the hall.

Cursing under his breath, he turns and runs out after her, pulling on her arm to get her to stop so he can finally talk some sense into her.

"Katniss, wait-"

She yanks her arm away as though he's covered in sewage and filth, but he pointedly ignores it as he decides to just suck it up and take what she's currently offering him; her time.

"Are you okay?" He asks, and her cold expression morphs into confusion. "You were shot," he elaborates, enlightening her. "Are you okay?"

He reaches down to her torso when she says nothing and yanks up her shirt, searching for a wound, and she frantically slaps his hands away and jumps back a good three feet.

"_Yes! Yes_, I'm fine! Jeez!"

She curls her arms around herself to try and block his view, and he bites his lip to keep from pointing out that he's seen far more of her than a simple gunshot wound.

"It didn't touch me," she says quietly, not looking at him. "The bullet hit me but it didn't go through. My vest made sure of that."

He exhales, relieved. "Good."

A heavy silence presses down on them, and he has to fight with everything he has to come up with a topic that won't set her off.

"...So how was your trip to Two?" He asks. "Aside from getting shot."

She blinks four times in succession, mouth twitching in uncertainty before finally deciding to answer. _"Fine._ Gale and my propo team came to join me a couple of weeks after I arrived, so I wasn't _completely_ alone."

His head snaps up. "...You were with Gale?"

Unfortunately for him, he is unable to keep the accusing tone out of his voice; Katniss hones in on him like a hunter on a bear, and he knows that he's lost when she narrows her eyes and closes herself off.

"_Yes_," she answers dangerously. "What about it?"

He doesn't want to pour salt on the wound, but he figures that he might as well let her know about his suspicions. The cat was out of the bag anyway, so what was the point of denying it now?

"Did he...did he _try_ anythi-"

"_No!_" She shouts, angry. "He didn't touch me, he didn't kiss me. He didn't do anything! We just _talked._"

He blinks and takes a breath, nodding to himself in reassurance. "Oh...about what?"

She scoffs, shaking her head as though she doesn't know why she's bothering to answer. "District 12. Our friendship. Life..._you._"

"What about me?" He asks, and she looks at him with a neutral expression.

"He said...he said that he wants me to choose whoever makes me happy."

His breath catches, but doesn't let his own fear keep him from prodding her on. "And?"

She slowly shakes her head, anger deflating as she shrugs. "And...and I'm not really sure who that is right now."

Her answer is harsh but honest, and he nods his appreciation to her for telling the truth and not sugarcoating anything for his sake; that was the _last_ thing he wanted right now. They both take their time staring at the wall and at the floor pf the skinny hallway they're standing in, silent as they process what the other has said. It doesn't take Katniss nearly as long to do this as he does, though, and within seconds, she's making her exit.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go see Peeta."

Cruel eyes lock with wounded ones, and she stares him down before turning around and continuing down the hall.

"Wait," he says firmly, gripping her arm at the last second and looking into her eyes.

She's silent as he stares at her, and he searches her gaze for any traces of guilt or regret, any small sign that she doesn't truly mean the cold and merciless words she's spoken.

He finds none.

* * *

Katniss smears away her building tears as she walks, the tips of her fingers running along the rims of her eyes as she makes her way to Peeta's holding cell.

She hadn't wanted to be so cruel. Finnick didn't deserve it, not after all he'd done for her. She had no reason to be angry with him – Plutarch had clearly explained the mix-up – so why was she? She didn't know. She didn't know much of anything anymore, what was real and what wasn't, what was lies and what was truth. It was becoming harder and harder to make sense of things, and the one thing she thought she had to be _sure_ of, to be_ absolutely certain_ about – Finnick – was proving to be just as unreliable as everything else. She couldn't trust anyone.

She makes her way to the set of double-doors leading to Peeta and waits to be cleared by the guard, stepping inside the first chance she gets. She wants to get this over with as soon as possible.

She doesn't expect to lock eyes with Annie Cresta when she walks in, and the scarlet-haired woman seems just as surprised as she is to see someone else in the room.

Annie leaps from her chair and envelopes her in a hug, and all of the anger and stress she still held from her meeting with Finnick instantly dissipates as the pure, innocent woman disarms her with nothing more than her presence.

"You're alive!" She whispers, relieved. "Oh, I'm so glad. Finnick was so worried about you. I thought we might never see you again."

Guilt slips through her consciousness as she continues to embrace her, and she has to look away from her warm gaze as it bears unknowingly down on her.

"Thanks." She says, smiling and chuckling falsely. "I'm just glad to be alive, haha."

_If only that were true._

Annie smiles and laughs with her, eyes sparkling with warmth and mirth before suddenly remembering Peeta. She fumbles to apologize despite his clearly miffed feelings at her doing so, and with each passing moment Katniss finds it harder and harder to remember why she was mad at Finnick in the first place.

"I'm sorry! I...I didn't know anyone was supposed to be visiting him today. If I had known, I would have-"

She shakes her head and smiles. "No, it's okay. I didn't know I was going to be here either, to be honest. Haymitch told me to come."

She steals a glance at Peeta, who scoffs and looks away, and refocuses her gaze on Annie as the older woman makes her exit.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it, then. Bye, Peeta."

"Bye," he says, ignoring Katniss completely as Annie smiles and waves before disappearing through he double-doors.

A heavy, tense silence descends upon them once she's gone, and it's like an invisible vacuum has sucked all of the love and warmth out of the room without warning. Katniss awkwardly stands by the doors, unsure if she should try and get close to him yet. Haymitch had said there'd been progress, but she was still skeptical as to _how much_. Peeta seems to sense her dilemma, because he opens his mouth a second after the thought enters her mind.

"You can sit down. I'm not gonna _choke_ you or anything."

Her eyes snap up to his, and she has to stop her hand from instinctively going to her throat, suddenly feeling the need to cover her neck. Her bruises were mostly healed, but you could still see a hint of the darkened marks. She quietly obeys his suggestion and stiffly sits down in the chair across from him, noting that it's still warm from Annie. She wonders how long they'd been talking before she came.

"...You wanted to see me." She says, keeping it short and to the point as she stares at him.

"Yeah." He answers, just as short. "I did."

Silence befalls them once again, and she's subjected to the most scrutinized of stares as the boy she once knew inspects her like a lab rat.

"Hm. You're not as big as I thought you'd be." He says, and she knits her brows. "Or as pretty."

She fights the urge to flush, and suddenly realizes that he wasn't kidding when he'd said he wanted to 'see' her. _Was that all he wanted? To look at her? To make sure that she wasn't the monster that plagued his nightmares? Was that all this was?_

Losing her patience, she gets up from her seat and heads for the door, metal screeching against metal as she roughly pushes back from the table and bolts into a standing position. Her hand is almost on the door handle when Peeta's voice stops her, cold and unfeeling.

"I remember the bread."

She freezes, and when she says nothing, he goes on to say more.

"I remember the day I gave it to you, when you were starving. I was taking it out to toss it to the pigs but I gave it to you instead."

Sadness of days gone by grips her throat, and she tries to clear the nonexistent blockage as she attempts to answer with a steady voice. "That's right...do you remember anything else?"

"Bits and pieces," he says indifferently. "But mostly just that. And the song you sung."

"The Hanging Tree," she says, turning around just in time to see him nod.

"Yeah. That."

A beat of silence passes, and he's speaking again before she can make a complete fool of herself.

"I saw the tapes. Of our first Games together. I must have loved you a lot to go through all that pain."

Her breath hitches, but she answers nonetheless. "Yeah. You did."

"And did you love me?" He asks, cocking his head. "Did you care about me the same way I cared about you?"

And there it was, the moment when she was supposed to tell him the ultimate truth, the answer that would either make or break their relationship for years to come.

She had pictured this moment a thousand times, and yet nothing could have prepared her for it when it actually came. The answer was simple, just one word – _no_ – and yet she couldn't bring herself to say it. She didn't want to lie, didn't want to lead him on to believe something that wasn't true, but at the same time she didn't want to prove to him that she truly was just as horrible as his hallucinations; a lying, cheating, no good piece of trash befitting of a muttation.

Just one word. That was all she needed to say. But as she parted her lips to reply, she knew that that wasn't going to be what came out of her mouth.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me. That I loved you. They say that's the reason Snow took you in the first place. To get to me."

He smirks, scoffing at her attempt to dodge the question. "That's not an answer."

She blatantly ignores the obvious fact he tosses at her, instead focusing on how to answer truthfully without setting him off. Peeta begins to ask more questions when he's finally decided that she's not going to answer, only this time, she doesn't let him finish.

"You know, when I saw some of the tapes-"

"No."

His eyebrows twitch, confused, and she blinks multiple times before regaining her nerve and pushing forward with what she has to say.

"No. I didn't love you. Not in the Games. Not in the Quell. Not even before that." She pauses, taking a slow breath to ready herself for the rest of her tiny speech. "I do care about you, but only in a platonic sense. I _wanted_ to love you, I really did, but I just couldn't lie to the both of us with everything that was going on, not when we could be so much happier elsewhere."

"But you kissed me," he says, looking thoughtfully at the table. "In the Quell. After the monkeys. On the beach. You kissed me."

"That was just because-" she stops herself, not wanting to bring Finnick into this just yet. "That was because of something else. It had nothing to do with you."

"So you lied to me." He says flatly. "You led me on."

She looks down, mind flying in all sorts of different directions to try and get out of the tough situation she's gotten herself into. "...Yes. I did. And I'm sorry."

He nods, looking thoughtfully down at the table. "...Do you love Finnick?"

She blinks, tilting her head back from the weight of his words. _That_ was sudden.

"U- um...uh..."

"Just _answer_ the question, Katniss!" He snaps, and she jumps from the intensity of his voice.

"Yes!" She fumbles out. "_Yes_, I do! I love him! There! Is _that_ what you wanted to hear?"

Peeta grins, almost maniacally, as though smugly satisfied with her answer. A beat passes, then another, and Katniss has to try her hardest to control the boiling anger inside of her. Peeta leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head as he coolly regards her.

"So tell me; does _Annie_ know?"

Her eyes widen to saucers as the reality of what's just happened crashes down on her. She can almost _see_ Annie's hurt and confused face, and dread drops in her stomach like an anvil.

"Peeta, no. Please, I'm begging you, you _can't_ tell her."

Peeta scoffs, smirking and shaking his head. "You don't have to worry about that. Unlike _you_, I'm not going to go behind someone else's back to get what I want."

"Get what you _want?_" She echoes, furrowing her brows and shaking her head. "What are you-"

And then it hits her.

Annie's relationship with Finnick, Peeta's relationship with her...he had been spending every day with that woman since they'd been rescued, and even before that. It only made sense that of all the people here, _she_ would be the one he formed an attachment to, a deep bond with. Why couldn't she see it before?

"You have feelings for her," she whispers, mouth falling open in shock.

The look on Peeta's face only solidifies her suspicions, and she's suddenly overcome with so many different emotions all at once that she feels dizzy, unable to keep her balance. Everything is spinning and a million different feelings are hitting her from all sides, and it's all too strong and all too real and it's just too much to handle.

She turns to the doors and throws them open, feeling as though she needs to gasp for breath in order for her body to get the oxygen it needs. She starts to hyperventilate, and as she stares at Peeta's room and the guards stare at her, she decides that she just needs to disappear. She runs down the hall and heads through the maze of living quarters, trying to find somewhere to just _be alone_, and settles for an empty laundry room.

She walks inside and shuts the door, hiding behind a laundry basket and crumpling to the floor in defeat.

This was it. Her secret was out. Now Peeta knew that she loved Finnick Odair, and there would be Hell to pay because of it. She never wanted this. She never wanted to lose Peeta or fall in love with Finnick or hurt Annie. It just happened that way. She couldn't control it. She couldn't control _anything,_ not even her own mouth. And now she would have to do whatever Peeta asked of her, put up with whatever dirty looks or harsh words he sent her way, or Annie would hate her and Finnick would never talk to her again. She would lose everyone she ever loved or cared about. Hell, it felt like she had already lost half of them.

Gale had practically excused himself from her life, telling her to pick whoever made her happy, and Finnick...she didn't even know what to think about him now. Sure, Plutarch may have excused him from any wrongdoings, but that still didn't explain why he wasn't totally opposed to the idea of getting married to Annie. Even if said marriage was 'fake' and 'all for show', how was she supposed to feel about it? Should she support it? Encourage it? Keep her mouth shut and wait until it's all over?

She couldn't stand the idea of Finnick marrying someone else, even if said marriage was just a ruse to anger the Capitol. But did she really have a right to be angry, when she was against marriage herself? Just because she didn't want to get married didn't mean that Finnick didn't, and it was selfish and cruel of her to expect anything else from him. She couldn't just string him along for the rest of their lives and make him believe that they could be anything more than what they were now, and the last thing she wanted to do was slowly kill any hopes and dreams he might have of claiming her as his own and starting a family.

But even all of these things combined didn't stop the underlying thought: _what if she didn't come back?_ What if she was still thought to be dead and Plutarch asked him to do the propo? Or what if she'd never been shot in the first place, and her absence only made him realize his love for Annie? What then? Would he have agreed and gone along with it? Married her and then acted like nothing happened when she finally returned?

_...Would he still want her?_

A new wave of tears spring from her eyes, and she slowly breathes in and out to control the shudders they invoke. She blinks to clear her vision, and wills herself to think of something else.

And then there was Peeta. He was so...hostile and manipulative now. The way he had coaxed that confession out of her, deceived her into admitting her most guarded of secrets so easily...he was just like her. Cold and distrustful and hard to get close to. Snow had practically turned him into an earlier version of herself.

She wonders if it had been intentional, a sort of subliminal message to shove the very aspects of herself that she hated into her face with each waking moment, to remind her of her faults and failures as a human being. Or if it was just a 'happy' coincidence. Either way, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered much anymore. Her life was falling apart, and it was all thanks to her.

There was no one, no one else to blame.

Not one single soul.

And she hated herself for it.

She sits beside the laundry basket for the next two hours, ultimately crying herself to sleep as she wonders at the countless ways life can be so cruel.

* * *

She slowly awakens to the feeling of being jostled some time later, and she lifts her head and focuses her eyes on the person whose hand is gently rocking her shoulder back and forth to get her to wake up.

Finnick stands above her, concerned and unsure as he gazes down at her.

"...Finnick?" She asks tiredly, squinting her eyes and slowly blinking. "What are you doing here?"

She meant to say 'how did you find me?', but he seems to get the gist of it as he slowly sits himself down between her and the laundry basket she's been unashamedly hiding behind for who knows how long.

"You've been gone a while," he says, voice low. "People were starting to worry. I was on my way to your compartment when I saw one of the laundry ladies talking with Boggs. He was gonna come get you but I told him I'd do it."

She slowly blinks, closing her eyes for a second before opening them back up. "Oh."

No more words are spoken for some time, the only sounds being that of the washers and dryers as they noisily perform their duties, and just as she's getting up the courage to ask him about Annie, he decides to save her the trouble.

"I know why you're mad," he says, pausing to scoff angrily at himself. "I had to think about it for an _hour_ before it finally hit me. I guess I should've been more clear on things before we went our separate ways."

She turns her head to look at him, gaze questioning. "And why exactly am I mad?"

He breaks eye contact and looks at the vibrating washer in front of him, bouncing his arm atop his knee as though throwing an invisible pebble. "Because of the fact that I didn't _blatantly_ reject Plutarch's 'wedding' idea..."

Blinking, she looks away, and even though she doesn't particularly feel like it, she decides to reply with the usual sarcasm that is expected of her. "Wow. I honestly never thought you'd pick up on that. I mean I know you're _known_ for your intuition and intellect, but man...you really hit the nail on the head."

He sighs beside her and looks up at the ceiling, and she just _knows_ that it's killing him. "God, Katniss, _please_ don't. I know what I did wrong. It's bad enough without you rubbing it in my face."

She smiles despite herself, watching as he runs a hand over his face. "Yeah, well, after what you put me through, I think I deserve the opportunity."

A light chuckle escapes him, and he relents. "Yeah, okay. But don't think that I do this lightly. You know how delicate my ego is."

She tosses him a look that's meant to be serious, but they both break out into quiet giggles the moment they make eye contact. She doesn't want this to happen – after all, their situation is hardly funny – but there's something about the way he's looking at her and the way they're cooped up in this tiny laundry room like a couple of hermits that just strikes the two of them funny. She hates that it's so hard to stay serious when the situation truly demands it, but she hates it even more that she can never stay mad at him for long.

"Oh, God..." Finnick whispers, grinning as he stares at the endless circle of clothes being tossed about in one of the dryers. "I can't tell you the last time I laughed...well, I suppose I _could,_ but it would defeat the purpose of what I'm trying to say."

Katniss sputters, mouth twisting into an awkward grin. "Oh, stop it. I'm sure you've had plenty of laughs since _Annie's_ been back."

She doesn't mean for it to, but her words shatter anything that had been lighthearted about their conversation, and before she can take it back, they're right where they started.

Finnick's smile drops and he looks away, and she in turn does the same as a heavy silence weighs down on them, threatening to crush them in spite of the happy moment they'd been sharing.

"...You know, I...I haven't laughed at _all_ since Annie got back, I don't think." He says quietly, as though only just realizing this. "And the only time I remember laughing before then is when I was with Prim in the hospital."

A sad smile comes to her lips. "Yeah. Prim does that to people."

More silence.

"...You _know_ that I love you." He says, as though trying to assure not only her but himself as well. "Right?"

She opens her mouth, intent on answering, but words fail her. She wants to say that yes, she knows, but in reality she really doesn't. She wants to _believe_ that he loves her, and only her, but the reality of the situation is that she's finding it harder and harder to believe. Call her a pessimist, but that was how she felt. And she doubted that much could be done to change it.

Finnick senses her dilemma, and he moves to grip her shoulders and angle her towards him so he can look her properly in the eye.

"I _do_," he says, gaze serious. "I _do_ love you. And I know that I haven't exactly been showing it lately, but...I do. And I'll say it again and again until you believe it, a _thousand_ times if that's what it takes."

Katniss stares at him, floored by what he's telling her. This was exactly what she'd been wanting to hear for the longest time, and now it was finally happening. It was almost too good to be true, and the rational, realistic part of her brain wanted to believe it was just that. But the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice was entirely sincere, and the emotions she was feeling were all too real for this to be a figment of her imagination.

She blinks and lets go of the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and attempts to answer even though her mind is in no condition to do so.

"Finnick, I...I- I can't-"

"No," he says, shaking her a bit. "You don't have to say anything. Just know that no matter _who_ I'm with, or what I'm doing, or how long we're apart...I'm thinking of you. And I will _always._ Think. Of you."

Her mind has officially been reduced to mush, and so it's all she can do when she swallows, blinks, and says, "...Okay."

He purses his lips and nods, seemingly content that she understands, and his eyes drift from her own down to the faint bruises on her neck. She stills, going completely rigid as his hand moves to brush over the barely-there marks, keeping his touch feather-light even though it's no longer necessary.

"Does it hurt?" He asks quietly, observing her wounds.

She takes a moment to reply, appreciating his gentle touch. "...No," she whispers, shaking her head. "Not anymore."

He nods and takes his hand away, and before she can protest the loss he leans forward and places his lips where his fingers were, a firm but gentle pressure as his mouth connects with the left side of her neck. She gasps, not expecting this, but doesn't tell him to stop either. Because this is the first he's been even _remotely_ intimate with her since Annie and Peeta have been rescued, and this is the first she's let him. She doesn't want to ruin it.

Finnick's cold lips move over her hot skin, never staying in the same place for long as he pulls away to kiss a different spot on her neck. Katniss lifts a hand to his hair, encouraging him, and he applies a bit more pressure in response. She appreciates that he wants to be gentle given her injuries, but they're mostly healed and besides, she wants to feel something other than what she's been stuck with for the past week.

He lowers her onto a pile of laundry, and she tries to control her erratic breathing as he wraps an arm around her and tangles a hand in her hair. She closes her eyes as he makes his way to the other side of her neck, savoring the feel of being so close to him after so long. Each kiss he leaves triggers a tingle like that of an electric current, starting from his lips and traveling all the way down her spine. She shudders and holds him tighter, and it's then that she realizes how much she's truly missed this, missed _him_. No matter how long they spent apart, or much she wanted to deny it, she would always love Finnick Odair.

Finnick slowly pulls away and she sighs, eyes just as bright as his as they stare at each other in the dark, cramped room.

"I've been wanting to do that," he breathes, grinning as he takes a moment to catch his breath. "Since they took that stupid brace off your neck."

She smiles, letting out a short, breathless giggle. "I've been wanting you to _want_ to do that since they took that stupid brace off my neck."

They stare at each other for a few moments, each admiring the other, and it's only when they hear a noise outside that they snap out of their shared trance.

"Come on," Finnick says, moving off of her and getting up. "Let's get out of here before someone finds us. I'm sure the cleaning ladies are _dying_ to get to these dirty clothes."

Katniss pushes herself up onto her elbows, turning to look at the pile of spotless clothes beneath her. "They look pretty clean to me."

Finnick grins, sending her a sly, perverted smirk. "Well they sure aren't now."

Flushing beet-red, Katniss grabs a nearby shirt and chucks it at him, instantly wiping the smugness off his face when he has to move faster than lightning in order to avoid her projectile weapon.

"You sicko!" She yells, clapping a hand over her mouth when her voice comes out too loud.

Finnick shrugs, recovering quite easily. "Hey. I didn't hear any objections on _your_ end."

"Shut up!"

"_Oh, Finnick, you're so amazing..._"

"Stop!"

"_Kiss me again, I'm begging you..."_

"Seriously, quit!"

"_I love it when you touch my-"_

"I swear, if you finish that sentence I am _never_ speaking to you again."

Finnick promptly shuts his mouth, teeth clicking as he does so, and he holds out his hand to help her up as he looks down at her with the expression of a young child who's been told to keep quiet even though they're bursting at the seams with laughter.

Huffing in annoyance, Katniss reluctantly takes the hand offered to her, accepting his help even though she can stand perfectly well on her own. She lets go of him and dusts herself off, surprised when she looks up to see him staring at her with a look she didn't think she'd see again for a very long time.

She begins to ask him if anything's wrong, but he swoops forward and captures her lips with his before she can even get the words out. He cups her face and propels her backwards, and she nearly trips on the pile of laundry behind her before her back makes contact with the wall. She's about to tell him to stop (after all, someone could walk in at any moment, and besides; hadn't they just done this?) but he pulls away before she makes the decision to do so.

He smiles and rests his head against hers, once again taking time to catch his breath as his blurry face takes up her vision.

"I just wanted to make sure I did that," he breathes, grinning. "Before something _else_ happened to get you mad at me."

She rolls her eyes and half-heartedly pushes him away, and he whines like a little kid as he moves forward again and rests his head on her shoulder. She takes a breath and looks up at the dim light fixtures on the ceiling, bringing her hands up to cradle his head and rub light circles into his back.

"You're such a child sometimes." She sighs.

"But you still love me, right?" He says, turning his head and grinning into her neck.

She smiles, but only because he can't see, and softly replies, "Don't push it."

* * *

**A/N: Credit for Katniss and Peeta's conversation (as well as the whole first half of the chapter really) goes once again to elfielovesbooks. You're awesome, Elfie! :')**

**So yeah, I thought we could use some lighthearted Finniss fluff/humor amidst all this drama and heartbreak. I hope you enjoyed Annie's POV. I was really worried about it being believable and in character, especially since she's not really in the books all that much. Thoughts?**

**'Til next time!**


	24. Pt IV: Gust to Whirlwind

**A/N: 10/07/2015 Woo, I'm back! :D**

**Thank you to elfielovesbooks (but of course), Guest (lol glad you got the chapter you've been waiting for), joanayagarcia (sorry I couldn't get this to you sooner!), Flames of Sage (always a pleasure), Keeper (thanks, I will!), A Huge Fan (thanks for the support, bro!), mum2shane (don't worry, I'll finish it!), and Guest (BOOM, updated) for your reviews.**

**Loulou: though I doubt if you're reading this judging from your review (I'm still trying to decide if it was positive or not) I'm going to answer you anyway. Yes, it can be a very funny thing when writing fanfiction. You think you have one thing going and then it turns into something completely different. I had actually intended for this story to be a oneshot, but the more I thought about it the more I realized how much further I could take it (and I'm glad I did). So there. I'm sorry if I'm interpreting your review completely the wrong way, but that's just the way that I took it. And even if you're not reading this, I'm glad that my Author's Note blunder about the intended length of this story gave you some giggles.**

**On a lighter note, WOW! I just realized that I've almost got 200 reviews for this thing! I honestly never thought I'd get that far. I mean I dream and fantasize of course, but to have it actually become a reality is a totally different and much more powerful feeling. You're great, guys! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 23 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 40 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-four: Gust to Whirlwind~

* * *

"Hey, Brainless! You coming, or what?"

Katniss snaps out of her daze, clutching her food tray and following after Johanna Mason through the busy cafeteria for a place to sit. "Um...yeah, right behind you."

Ever since being told that she wouldn't be on the roster of those going to the Capitol to take down Snow, she and Johanna had been spending a lot more time together. Coin had made it quite clear that neither of them were 'qualified' to be tagging along on such a 'delicate' mission, and after a good half-hour of arguing and butting heads, the District 13 President relented and told them that if they could complete a three week training course and successfully pass the graduation exams, she would let them go.

They had begun with big heads and even bigger egos, but after being totally and utterly crushed by a group of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds (they were in the beginner's class) they quickly realized that they truly were in no shape for the battlefield. They were now two weeks into their three week course, and though they were admittedly doing much better than they were before, there was never a moment when the doubt that either of them would make it all the way through was not present. Still, their minds were made up, and neither she nor Johanna were willing to compromise all they had worked for thus far. The day President Coin told them they couldn't do something would be the day Hell froze over.

"Come on, over here!"

Katniss puts a pause on her stubborn thoughts and picks up her pace to catch up with Johanna, who has already found a place to eat amidst the crowded cafeteria. The bald woman is already sitting down by the time she reaches her, and upon further inspection she sees that the table isn't empty; Finnick and Annie are seated right across from her, quietly eating their corn and mashed potatoes.

She takes a moment to steel herself before sitting down, putting her game face on and making sure not to catch Finnick's gaze as she places her tray on the table and seats herself next to Johanna.

She and Finnick had been engaging in a kind of 'secret affair' as of late, sneaking off when the opportunity arose and meeting wherever was most suitable for the time being. Their relationship was still stressed and rather fragile, but not nearly as much as it had been before their fight following her return from District 2. She hadn't been seeing much of him lately because of her training, but they still took time out of their schedules whenever possible to meet up, often in secret or – if that wasn't possible – in public places that were populated enough to the point of no one suspecting them of anything unseemly.

Katniss takes a calming breath as she picks up her fork and digs into her peas, sparing a glance at Finnick as she does so. He's much better at keeping up appearances than she is – he doesn't even _look_ like he wants to look at her, let alone kiss her in a dark corner – and upon the realization that she's beginning to stare too long at he and Annie's clasped hands resting on the table, she turns her head away and looks at the empty space on the bench seat across from her, the sounds of Johanna's loud chewing grating on her ears as she tries to quietly keep her cool.

"Mm...so how come you two never got hitched?" Johanna asks brazenly, pausing to swallow down the unbelievably large chunk of food in her mouth as she addresses Annie and Finnick. "I thought Plutarch wanted you guys to get married so he could show Snow and the Capitol that you were still 'going strong' or whatever."

Katniss looks up from her tray and gapes at Johanna, both embarrassed and ashamed that she's been unfortunate enough to have to endure such an awkward moment between not only she and Finnick, but she and Annie as well. She couldn't say that she hadn't been expecting her to say something so blunt and straightforward (this was Johanna, after all) but of all the subjects to pounce on, the failed marriage propo was the last one she expected to come carelessly tumbling from the District 7 woman's mouth. She should have chosen another place to sit.

Finnick begins to open his mouth to reply, but it's Annie that offers an explanation.

"Oh, um, we talked about it and...well, after thinking about the rebellion and everything else that's going on, we decided not to. It was just a propo, anyway. It wouldn't have been anything official."

Johanna takes another mouthful of food, pausing in her chewing to mull over Annie's words.

"Huh."

She goes back to eating and Finnick spares a short, warning glare at Katniss, and nothing more is said on the matter.

The atmosphere slowly melts back into one of semi-normalcy, and they all continue to eat their food in silence as everyone but Johanna tries to ignore the awkward moment she inadvertently created. Katniss releases the tense breath from her lungs and fights off the urge to blush in shame, and quietly attempts to move on from the topic of Annie and Finnick's unsuccessful wedding propo. Johanna continues to keep her mouth shut, and everything proceeds to go smoothly.

Until Peeta walks by.

"Hey, Peeta! Over here!"

Katniss widens her eyes, first looking to Peeta and then to Johanna, panic seizing her.

"Johanna, _no_!" She hisses.

The older girl scoffs and waves her off as though she's a fly. "Peeta, come sit with us! We've got plenty of room!"

Katniss shrinks in the bench seat, resisting the urge to flat out hide under the table as Peeta and the two hulking figures of the guards accompanying him comes closer in her peripheral vision. He sits down directly across from her, right beside Finnick and Annie, and she looks up just enough to see the shining glint of his metal handcuffs, the thin chain link being the only thing stopping him from throttling her right this second. She nervously swallows and sits up a bit straighter, lifting her head so she can steal a glance at Finnick and the others.

Finnick looks tense as a spring, ready to jump up at a moment's notice if Peeta dares to try anything, and Annie looks downright flushed, as though she's ashamed to have Peeta and Finnick in the same room together, as though she's _hiding_ something. Johanna looks indifferent.

"What's with the fancy bracelets?" Johanna asks, taking yet another bite of food and gesturing to the cuffs with her fork.

"They don't _trust_ me enough to take them off yet." Peeta replies, the word 'trust' falling mockingly from his lips. "I need to prove that I can play 'nice' with others first."

He sends a meaningful glance at Katniss, and she purposely looks away to avoid his gaze.

Johanna makes a thoughtful hum and pushes her now clean tray out of the way and sets it aside, folding her arms on the table and leaning over to better look at Peeta. "Huh. So how you been, Peet? They treatin' you good?"

"More or less." He says, ignoring her ill-used nickname. "They give me three meals a day and I get a decent conversation to go with it, so I'd say I'm doing pretty good considering the circumstances." He leans over to look at Annie, much to Finnick's discomfort. "I enjoyed our talk very much yesterday, by the way, Annie. Thank you."

Annie blushes and ducks her head, and Finnick leans forward to block her from Peeta's view, squeezing her hand and stroking her thumb with his.

Though she knew he had a right to be concerned with Annie's whereabouts and who she spent her time with, Katniss found it increasingly harder to believe that Finnick held no feelings whatsoever for the fair-skinned girl beside him. It may have been platonic, or even paternal, but it still unnerved and unsettled her. Yes, it may have been a little selfish – after all, he had far more reasons to be concerned about she and Peeta's (and Gale's) questionable relationship than she did he and Annie's – but it didn't stop the proverbial thorn from irritating her side.

She looks away from Annie and Finnick's joined hands, accidentally locking eyes with Peeta. The blond boy smirks at her, staring into her soul with devilish, manipulating eyes, and she swears that for a minute her heart stops. For just the briefest of moments, she can _see_ the thoughts going on inside his head, can see the silent threat they pose to her. His eyes, which seemed so dead and lifeless before, were now alight with hundreds of dark and malicious thoughts. It's all she can do to stare.

_I know how you feel about Finnick, _they seem to say, taunting her. _Should I tell Annie and let her know?_

_No! _She silently pleads, widening her eyes and shaking her head in the subtlest way possible. _You can't. Please, I'll do anything._

His smirk grows. _That's what I thought. Coward._

He releases her from his stare and focuses on his food, relaxing his muscles as easily as one who is perfectly sane would do, and she nearly sobs with relief. Tears unwillingly fill her eyes, shaken at the unexpected and emotionally harrowing moment she's just gone through, and she has to quickly reign them in before anyone notices.

A long, tense silence passes, and for the longest time no one dares to speak a word. Any fun and lightheartedness that had been present before Peeta had sat down was now gone, sucked away and evaporated into thin air and never to be seen again.

Katniss swallows thickly and discards the last of her tears, and looks up just in time to see Finnick whispering something to Annie. Whatever it is, it must have something to do with Peeta, because a moment later she's nodding and getting up from her seat, taking her tray with her as she wordlessly excuses herself from the group.

"Hey, where are you going?" Johanna calls, unashamedly loud. "You don't have to leave just 'cause Peeta's here! Come back!"

Annie stops and looks back nervously between everyone at the table, but ultimately says nothing as she turns around and heads back in the direction she'd originally intended. Once she's out of sight, Finnick sends Johanna the darkest of glares.

"What?" She asks, unfazed. "I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. Doctor's orders."

Katniss shakes her head and rolls her eyes, annoyed at her use of yet another reason to rub everyone the wrong way.

Johanna had been going through a sort of mental therapy since being rescued from the Capitol, similar to Peeta's but on a much smaller scale, and hardly as serious. Johanna's situation wasn't nearly as dire as Peeta's was, so she was allowed to walk freely and do (almost) whatever she wanted as long as she agreed to see a therapist once a week. For the past three days, she'd been bugging everyone nonstop with her sarcastic quips and blunt comments, and it was all thanks to her (very suddenly, mind you) 'beloved' therapist. Still, doctor's orders or not, Katniss failed to see the 'help' that it would do to say every little thing that popped into her head, especially when it came to such taboo subjects like Peeta and Annie.

Finnick scoffs. "I don't care if they're President _Coin's_ orders, I don't want to see you talking to Annie again."

Johanna makes a funny face. "Alriiiight, _geez!_ I didn't think it was _that_ big of a deal. But if I have a mental breakdown in the next couple of days, I'm gonna be _sure_ to let my therapist know who's responsible."

Johanna goes back to poking around her empty tray with her fork, and Finnick just shakes his head as if to say, _unbelievable_.

It's quiet for a few moments. Then-

"You didn't have to send her away, you know."

Everyone looks at Peeta, whose expression is one of strange gentleness.

"I'm serious. I've been talking to her every day. I wouldn't hurt her. If I was going to, I would've done it by now."

Everyone is stunned into silence, and Finnick is the first to recover.

"You know, Peeta, you really should butt out of other people's business."

"And _you_ should treat Annie better," he shoots back, sending him a glare. "I may not know everything, but I know enough to know that you're not as nice as you should be, most of all to her."

She and Johanna watch as Finnick and Peeta glare at each other, and the guards standing behind Peeta tense, ready to act at even the slightest indication that something's about to go horribly, horribly wrong. Katniss is so nervous that she doesn't even _breathe, _let alone swallow down the fear in her throat. And as Peeta's mouth slowly twists into an ill-meaning smirk, she fears she may pass out from the lack of oxygen.

"You should change your tune, Finnick; if you're not careful, you might wake up one day and find that I've stolen Annie right from under your nose."

The sentence – the threat – hangs in the air and settles above their heads, pressing down on them with a steadily increasing weight. This time, Johanna is the only one brave enough to push past it.

"You know, Peeta, _you're_ the one who should change their tune. You wouldn't even _be_ here if it weren't for Finnick. He's the one who saved your ass in the Quell, on _more_ than one occasion."

Peeta doesn't even have to try to combat her point. "Yeah, for _her_." He nods in Katniss' direction, but otherwise ignores her. "For the rebellion. Not for me. I never asked for his help. I don't owe him anything."

Johanna narrows her eyes at him but says nothing more, and Katniss has finally decided that she's had enough. She gets up from her place on the bench seat and steps out from the table, turning around walking away without another word.

Johanna calls after her- "Hey! What about your food? Don't you want it?" -but she doesn't care to answer back.

All she cares about is getting away from here, about getting inside her compartment and locking herself in the bathroom, away from the rest of the world for however long she deems fit.

She makes it around the first corner before Finnick catches up with her.

"Katniss, wait!" He calls, latching onto her arm and spinning her around to face him.

Panic seizes her and she tries to pull away, not wanting him to see the obvious traces of weakness on her face, but he's having none of it; he grabs hold of her chin and forces her to look at him, concerned eyes burning into hers with every passing second as he tries to identify the source of her distress. Tears begin to fill her eyes again, and she's all too thankful when he releases her and allows her to continue her trek to the living quarters. But not without him tagging along.

Finnick stays diligently by her side as they walk, passing stranger after stranger as they make their way to her compartment, not saying a word as he tries to work things out in his own head. They stop at her door when they reach it, and he tries to fumble out a frustrated yet comforting sentence.

"Katniss, I just want you to know that whatever it is, I'm here for y-"

"I can't do it," she says abruptly, cursing herself when her voice cracks. "I can't. I can't be around Peeta. Not when he can look me in the eye and see me for who I really am...I just can't."

There. She said it. She admitted her true feelings to the one person who might understand, who might finally be able to help her now that they knew the whole story as to what was going on inside her jumbled mess of a head.

Finnick stills, going quiet and attempting to process everything before trying to give her a decent reply. She waits, hoping to God that he'll give her an answer she wants, preferably a _true_ one, that will both defeat her destructive way of thinking and lay rest to the negative thoughts drifting through her mind day in and day out. She waits, but the longer she does the larger the gap of silence grows between them, pulling them apart without having to move either of them so much as an inch.

And it's then that she comes to the broken conclusion that there's nothing even Finnick can say to make her feel better. There's no kind or comforting words he can speak because there are simply none when it comes to her. She truly is just as bad as she thinks, as bad as Peeta thinks, and the only saving grace she can give him is that he doesn't want to lie to her. She bites her lip to keep it from trembling and turns towards her door to go inside, letting her hair fall in front of her face to try and cover the single tear that rolls off her eyelashes and splatters to the floor.

"You're wrong."

Her eyes widen the slightest fraction, surprised and puzzled at this statement, and freezes just as her hand comes to rest on the door handle. "...What?"

"You're wrong," he says again, taking her face in his hands and looking earnestly into her eyes. "Peeta's _not_ seeing you for who you really are. If he were, he wouldn't be acting like he is."

She half-heartedly tries to remove his hands from her face, for fear of him seeing just how weak she is right now, but he refuses to budge as he moves closer and strokes her cheekbones with his thumbs. "Finnick, please, don't try to make this seem like it's not as bad as it is-"

"I'm _serious_." He says, trying to cement his words into her mind. "He doesn't see you for who you are. He doesn't see the kind, smart, stubborn, beautiful, caring, selfless, strong, _amazing_ person that you are. And when he does, he's gonna feel like the biggest _jackass_ on the planet."

A laugh escapes her, short and loud, causing more tears to spill over her eyes, and she smiles in appreciation for the powerful and wonderful and _true_ words he's so effortlessly used to describe her. It has such a strong effect on her that it causes an entirely new wave of tears to come, though she can gladly say that their origins are of happiness rather than self-loathing and depression. A much welcome change, given her usual string of feelings. Leave it to Finnick to turn a cloud into a rainbow.

He takes a moment to smile with her before getting back on track with what he has to say. "Look, all I'm saying is that you're being too hard on yourself. Whatever negative things you're thinking, just stop. Okay? Just stop. Because however bad or evil or awful or horrible you think you are, it will never come _close_ to how Peeta thinks of you. So please, just...stop beating yourself up about it. For me."

She sniffles and nods, though not as convincingly as she wants to. "Okay. I'll try. I promise."

Finnick exhales and draws the corner of his mouth in, as though he doesn't quite believe her – and really, why should he? - but decides that it's time to leave her to herself. He kisses her head and begins walking away, and she begins to open her door, staring after him as he goes. He halts just before reaching the corner and turns around, stopping her from going inside with nothing more than his gaze as he proceeds to leave her with a few parting words.

"I know that you want to help Peeta. And I know that you probably feel like you have to take whatever it is that he throws at you because you think you deserve the punishment. You don't want to lose him. I get that. But if you actually _believe_ the things that he says about you...then you've already lost him."

He turns the corner and disappears, and Katniss heads inside her quarters, already pondering over what has been said between them.

She closes the door and slowly walks over to her bed to sit down, suddenly not in the mood for crying herself to sleep in the bathroom. She doesn't really feel much at the moment – not sadness, not anger, not even confusion – but it doesn't really matter, either. Finnick was right, she shouldn't be mentally berating herself over something that she couldn't do anything about. Peeta was the way he was, and there was no changing it. It was too late to wish it away. She needed to get a backbone and just deal with it. It was the only thing she could do. The only way she could keep moving forward. The only way she could survive.

Katniss takes off her shoes and lays down, staring at Prim and her mother's empty bed across the room until her eyes grow too heavy and her mind too tired.

She sleeps, where many a nightmare awaits her.

* * *

She and Johanna get better at training.

Much better, in fact. They're at the top of their class by the third and final week, and by the time Soldier York, their instructor, recommends them for the exams, they both feel as though they actually have a chance.

Out of the twenty or so members in their class, they save the two of them for last (whether this is intentional or not, she doesn't know) and Katniss is the one chosen to go ahead of Johanna.

They take her into a large, almost endless room, with metal walls and floors and ceilings, and within seconds she's forced to begin her test.

Streets and buildings meant to represent a block of the Capitol pixelate themselves into existence, and she watches in tense awe as the computer-generated figures meant to be her 'team' are built from the feet up.

Once the simulation is complete, she begins. The point is simple – just get from point A to point B without being noticed by Capitol forces – but she finds that it is far more difficult than anything she's trained for thus far. Her virtual Commander is in the lead, so it isn't too hard to find out which way to go, but the entire time they're weaving in and out between buildings and hiding behind trash cans and abandoned vehicles, her brain is working overtime to figure out just what it is about this exam that's supposed to be a test.

She remembers Soldier York telling her that the exams were designed to prey on your biggest weakness, and that if you couldn't overcome it then you wouldn't pass. But she had so many weaknesses that it was almost futile to even try and count them, let alone figure out which one was her biggest flaw.

Her team is stopped in a subway stairwell, hiding from a small troop of Capitol soldiers as they march down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. Katniss holds her breath, not daring to even swallow for fear of them hearing, and stares between the thick metal bars of the staircase frame as they walk by. It feels like forever, but they do eventually make it to the end of the street and turn the corner, their backs to them as they disappear from sight.

She exhales, relieved, and begins to stand up to her full height, bow gripped tightly in her hands.

She doesn't expect to see the lone Peacekeeper walking towards them, and she involuntarily gasps in surprise. She ducks her head, heart beating with adrenaline and fear, and when nothing happens – no scream to alert the others, no sounds of boots thumping hard against the pavement as they make their way towards her – she slowly eases back up to peak through the bars.

The Peacekeeper is just standing there, gun held lazily in their hands as they face out across the street and look down to inspect the tread of their boots. Katniss pinches her brows, somewhat confused, but pays it no mind as she raises her bow and begins to stand at full height.

"Get down!"

She jolts, startled at the low, harsh voice of her virtual Commander, and freezes in place as she decides what to do.

This was just a test. She couldn't really die and she couldn't really get hurt. She could only fail. So what was the problem with her taking advantage of the opportunity to kill the oblivious Peacekeeper standing just at the other end of the sidewalk? Why was it so important that she lower her bow and hide away from sight when she could so easily end the problem right then and there? When the only thing standing in the way of her making it to the rendezvous point and _passing this test _was that one Peacekeeper?

And that's when it hit her.

This _was_ her test. Her one big weakness that was being preyed upon without her even knowing it; she couldn't follow orders.

Not in the Games, when she saved both her and Peeta's lives.

Not in the Quell, when she shot that arrow into the forcefield.

Not in District 2, when she ran out to help that man up and almost paid with her life for it.

And not here.

This was her test. Her one big weakness that was being preyed upon. Only this time, she wouldn't let it get the best of her.

Katniss slowly exhales and lowers her bow, the tense string loosening along with her grip as she stares at the Peacekeeper. She ducks, joining the rest of her team in the stairwell, and her Commander makes a hand signal to order another member of her squad to dispose of the ignorant Capitol soldier. She listens as the Peacekeeper hits the cement with an audible thud, and she and her team (with the orders of her Commander, of course) emerge from the stairwell and run to the rendezvous point.

The second her foot touches the 'safe area' meant to signal that she's completed the test, her team and the buildings around her disintegrate, blurring to fat, unrecognizable pixels before dissolving back into the large metal room she'd started in.

She exits the room and is met by the test coordinator, who congratulates her on her success and gives her a stamp on her left hand that reads '451', the squad number to which she will be assigned. She is excited at the sight of this number, because it means that she will be under the command of Boggs, whose team also includes Finnick and Gale. Gale had already made it onto Boggs' team long before she had ever cared to do the same (as far as she knew, he entered training almost as soon as they arrived in District 13) but Finnick had been working at it for the past month or so. He was the newest addition to Squad 451 aside from her, going through training exercises every day and disappearing from Annie's side to make it to the exams (yet another reason why he and she hadn't been seeing much of each other lately) and now, after so much of her time and dedication, she was finally going to join him.

She reigns in her unbridled happiness (but just barely) and follows an official to the war room, in which a long and tense discussion between Boggs and Plutarch is already taking place. She spots Finnick and Gale standing along the wall with five others, who she assumes to be the rest of their team, and steps forward to meet Boggs as he puts a pause on his debate with Plutarch to address her.

"Katniss," he greets, smiling proudly. "I see you made it through the test."

She nods, smiling as well. "Yeah. I- I mean yes. Yes, I did, sir."

Boggs slightly bows, quietly giving her congratulations. "Good. Now go join the rest of your team. Welcome to Squad 451, soldier Everdeen."

He nods in the direction of Gale and the others, and Katniss silently walks over to join them, standing between Gale and Finnnick as they step aside to make room for her. Gale seems to be both proud and miffed that she's here, while Finnick looks like he's having trouble keeping a straight face. Though in all fairness, it can be hard to tell from your peripheral vision.

"Okay," Plutarch begins, looking first at Boggs and then at Katniss. "Seeing as how you just walked in, I'll start again. As you know, it will be a very dangerous and time-consuming task to make it through the outskirts of the Capitol without being detected. And as such, there are a few things you should know to help prepare you for your journey."

He steps toward the table in the center of the room and brings up a holograph of a block of the Capitol, not unlike the one she had just maneuvered through for her test. He expands the image and zooms in on a blinking red light, buried beneath the concrete.

"This," he begins, pausing for effect. "Is what's called a 'pod'. They were put there by the Capitol to act as a defense against a rebellion; against people like us. They can contain anything from a bomb to a pack of mutts, and it's more than likely that they've placed new ones around the city within the past few months."

Though she isn't sure if she should talk – after all, she hadn't been given the _order_ to do so – Katniss does anyway. "How do you know about these?"

Plutarch looks at her, surprised (as well as everyone else) but ultimately answers. "Because I'm the one who put them there. President Snow proposed the idea, and being the spy that I was, I had to agree. Now, I know that it's going to make your job a lot harder, but at least you'll know what to expect."

She doesn't know what comes over her, but she's leaving her place beside Gale and Finnick and walking up to the hologram before she can form another thought, intent on getting a closer look. Finnick joins her a moment later, scrutinizing the layout of the pods all throughout the Capitol, and she knows that he sees exactly the same thing she does. And who couldn't? Artificial dangers placed by gamemakers, deadly threats at every turn, a main goal of surviving long enough to attain victory...it wasn't a means of defense. It was an arena.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." Finnick announces quietly, slowly shaking his head.

"Welcome to the 76th Hunger Games." She finishes, voice hard and spiteful.

Images flash through her mind related to her previous Games, and she thinks sourly of Snow and how he's probably laughing from some high-up place in the Capitol right this very second, mocking her pitiful attempts to stay as far away from the Games as possible. Sick man.

"I don't know why you even bothered to put us through training, Plutarch," Finnick jokingly says, leaning away from the holograph to look at the retired gamemaker. "Katniss and I are the most experienced people you have on this team."

Katniss flushes, embarrassed at his blatant disregard of the team members who have no doubt worked tooth and nail to get their positions on Squad 451, but says nothing as Plutarch sighs and rolls his eyes at them.

"Yes, well, Coin wasn't about to let you go without knowing for absolute certain that you'd been trained by a qualified professional first. Don't blame me, I'm just the messenger. I merely agreed to the demands of a woman who is of much higher rank than I."

She chuckles at this, because the tone of his voice is so obviously sarcastic, and ducks her head to hide her smile.

Boggs steps forward, eyes passing over his squad, and announces their dismissal. "Okay, squad, I think you've got the gist of what we're up against. You're free to leave. Get some rest, you're gonna need it for the journey ahead."

Squad 451 slowly pours, single file, out of the room, and Katniss finds herself ushered down an unfamiliar hall back-to-back with complete strangers. She walks, because there's really nothing else she can do, and is thoroughly confused when at last they get to an open room. She is relieved to find an anchor in Finnick, who grabs her by the arm and pulls her aside.

"What should I tell Annie?" He asks, voice low as he casts a suspecting glance at the other squad members.

She blinks, surprised at this question; they must have been walking a lot longer than she'd thought if he could change his happy demeanor so quickly.

Though she is visibly disappointed that the first thing out of his mouth is about Annie and _not_ the fact that she had miraculously and painstakingly worked her way into the sharpshooting squad just hours before they were due to march to the Capitol and kill President Snow, the look of worry and concern on his face is too dire for her to voice such selfish thoughts. Annie had been a prominent topic of conversation as of late, with her giving advice on what to do or say or how to act around the oblivious woman, so it wasn't as though it was uncalled for. Still, Annie was becoming more and more dominant in their conversations, and Katniss was becoming less and less sure how to handle it.

Though Finnick had assured her time and time again of his love for her with words, he had done little to prove it with actions. Stolen kisses and secret rendezvous were hardly a proclamation of love, and even _she_ knew that it was grasping at straws to blindly and wholeheartedly believe his affections for her were one hundred percent genuine. Which of course was what she had chosen to do up until now.

However, unlike herself, she knew that Finnick was in a very difficult and delicate situation. He had to _see_ and _talk_ to Annie every day, all the while making sure that she didn't suspect anything of him in the way of unfaithfulness. While she, on the other hand, had had the pleasure and ease of being able to go about most of her days without seeing so much as a hair of Peeta at all, if ever. And though she felt that it was pretty clear by now that her romance with the tortured young man was over, she knew that Finnick was still insecure about the men in her life that weren't him. She could easily argue and say that she was insecure about his relationship with Annie – because after all, she still was – but he had never pressured her into making a sudden decision to just drop everything and cut all ties with Peeta or Gale, and so she wouldn't force it on him.

She takes a moment to clear her throat (which in reality is just a ruse to clear her mind) and thinks deeply about his problem.

"...Nothing," she says finally, and he looks at her with surprise. "You'll tell her nothing. That's what I'm going to tell my family."

Blunt but simple, her words do wonders to his brain.

For about two seconds.

"Yeah, but what if she sees that holograph? She'll _flip_-"

"She's not _going_ to see it." She answers simply, getting annoyed. "She can't. It's classified information. It's not like we're going into an actual Games again, anyway. It's not like only one of us will survive."

He purses his lips and looks out at the room, frustrated. "I _know_ that, but-"

"But what? Are you getting cold feet now that we're finally going to be experiencing a little danger?"

She doesn't mean for it to allude to Annie – after all, she's just as frustrated as he is at this point, so it's completely by accident that he seems to assume that she thinks he means to stay behind in order to soothe the woman's mental state – but it's kind of hard for things not to steer in the direction of Annie these days, and so she doesn't apologize or correct him on the fixed assumption he's made after she's finished her sentence.

"I- _no_! Dammit, would you just listen to me? All I'm saying is that it's_...hard_ to keep things from Annie."

She scoffs. "Pfft. You mean hard to keep your mouth shut."

"We tell each other everything," he says, going further to explain when she looks at him with anger and jealousy. "I mean we _used_ to...back before I met you."

"So she shouldn't expect anything when you decide to withhold a small piece of information, then, should she?" She asks, smiling sourly.

Fed up with his 'I'm innocent' act, Katniss turns sharply on her heel and walks away, wanting nothing more than to get away from him so that she'll have a chance to let her anger drain before they embark on their mission. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck on a squad with someone she currently wanted to strangle for God knew how long.

She makes it down the hall and to the second corner, a subtle hope that maybe this will be the one time he actually doesn't follow her so she can hide away and recharge, but of course, it's wishful thinking. Finnick speeds ahead of her and forces her to halt, fixing her with a glare that tells her he's fully prepared to defend himself should she try the physical route of escape.

"I'm _sorry_," he says, putting extra-special emphasis on the last word. "I know that the last thing you wanna hear me talk about is Annie. You haven't said a word about Peeta in all these weeks that we've been talking and I've been too selfish to even ask, and it's not right for me to dump all my problems on you...I'm sorry."

She absolutely hates it, but her hard heart is already softening at his words. He seems to notice this, and she glares at the ceiling and crosses her arms as she allows him to take full advantage of the rapidly closing window he has to complete his apology. Damn her and her bleeding heart.

"It's just that it's been so hard lately. With Annie. And I know that you want me to let her go, and I know you're right and I know I should, but...I'm not ready. And I know that's a lot to ask, considering all the hell I've put you through already, but it's all I've got. And I don't want either of us to go on this mission if this is how it's gonna be between us, accusing each other of loving the other less...and I don't think you do, either."

Katniss exhales, fighting to control the angry, frustrated tears from appearing in her eyes. It was just so easy for Finnick to simplify things, to make them seem not as bad or complicated as they really are. _Too_ easy. It was downright frustrating. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She slowly shakes her head because she doesn't trust her voice at the moment, agreeing with his statement, and when he deems it's safe, he leans forward to kiss her. She bows her head, expecting him to be aiming for her forehead (after all, they _were_ in public) but her lips are what he makes contact with. He kisses her full on the mouth, in front of everyone, and when he pulls away, she's so flustered and dazed that she feels like she's being kissed for the very first time, soft fireworks and mini explosions going off in her head and heart and stomach.

She blinks, eyes fluttering, and Finnick rests his head against hers and places a warm hand on her cheek, face blurred but eyes clearly alight with fire.

"Thank you," he breathes, giving her an open-mouthed grin as he stares into her eyes. "For giving me another chance."

She doesn't answer, she's so mesmerized, and it's only after he's pulled away and disappeared that she notices the number of people staring at her. All of their squad members, including the several bystanders present in the room, have taken their attention away from whatever conversations they'd been having and fixed it onto her, and she nervously swallows as the pressure from their combined gazes begin to slowly crush her. Heat rushes up her neck and into her head, and as she catches Gale's gaze and unreadable expression she's suddenly burning to the point of breaking out in a sweat.

She turns on her heel and abruptly leaves, not wanting to face anyone or answer any questions from those brave enough to ask, and heads straight to her room.

She climbs into bed and tries to get some sleep, but finds it much more difficult than she'd originally planned thanks to the adrenaline rush from both the prospect of killing Snow and the tingle of Finnick's lips on hers.

* * *

**A/N: So there it is. I'm kind of 'eh' about this chapter. I mean I like it but I feel like it needs something, like I should change some things around and whatnot. I dunno. What do you think?**

**Anyway I'm really sorry I made you guys wait so long for another update. I should've told you in the last Author's Note that I was gonna be running a little late. So let me just tell you now and let you know that I haven't written anything for the next chapter yet, but it should be coming within the next two weeks :)**

**'Til next time!**


	25. Pt IV: Whirlwind to Tempest

**A/N: 10/27/2015 SO sorry I didn't update when I said I would. I've had a ton of other stuff to do lately and by the time I got around to this chapter I had to tweak it and tweak it until I was satisfied. Silly half-baked perfectionist that I am. Anyway I hope you enjoy. ****I'm _REALLY_ hyped to share this chapter with you and I'd love to know what you think :)**

**Thank you ****Manaliac (I agree, Finnick needs to man up), Flames Of Sage (you're welcome!), cuacuaro (you're most welcome! I love Finniss), Keeper (don't worry, Finnick won't die), Live4theMusic (thanks for the correction, I fixed it!), A Huge Fan (thank you so much!), Anshu (I am sincerely flattered by your words, thank you!), Guest, Emme (oh gosh I'm so flattered. I was exactly the same way when I discovered the joy that is Finniss, squeaking whenever they were in a scene together. Thanks so much for letting me know about your new OTP!), and Guest (don't worry, I've got your update right here!) for your reviews :)**

**MUCH thanks to Elfielovesbooks for help on like, pretty much the entire first half of this chapter. You're amazing, Elfie! :)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 25 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 43 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-five: Whirlwind to Tempest~

* * *

They get up early in the morning to begin their march to the Capitol, with Katniss and her team all rushing to get dressed and properly outfitted for their journey.

She's just begun zipping up her bulletproof vest when Plutarch comes in, walking past the others and making his way to her with a rather uneasy look. For a moment she thinks he's about to tell her something horrible has happened to Prim or her mother, but decides to keep her cool until he's said his piece. No need to get all panicky an hour before leaving just because the middle-aged gamemaker wore a look she didn't like.

"Katniss." He greets, somewhat stiffly. She can tell it's just a quick formality to get out of the way before he drops whatever news he has to bring on her, and so she waits for him to do just that. "Um, listen...I know you're busy getting ready for a rebellion and all, but..._Peeta_ asked that I come get you."

She furrows her brows and tilts her head, relieved and somewhat confused. "Peeta?" _What would Peeta want with her?_

The gamemaker nods. "Yes. He found out that you and your team were planning on heading out this morning and wanted to see you before you left. He wouldn't say why, but I figured I'd let you know in case you wanted to speak with him one last time."

She knows that he doesn't mean it that way, but Plutarch makes it sound like she's going to die a horrible death and that she should seriously weigh her options before deciding to leave without seeing her ex-star-crossed lover. She fully realizes that it would probably bring her some kind of closure to at least _see_ Peeta before she left, but at the same time none of their previous encounters had really been what one would call 'positive', and she couldn't think of a single time when either of them had left each other's presence without one feeling hostile towards the other. She didn't want to leave and then die regretting that she hadn't at least spoken with him (assuming she did die, that is) but she also didn't want to have yet another hurtful conversation that would only lead to tearing them further apart. Not to mention the stress that it was sure to cause her and, therefore, her team.

Still, even if it did go completely south, she would regret it either way. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn't. And so it was decided. She would see him. Because even if it didn't bring any kind of closure to her, maybe it would do something good for him. Peeta would have surely gone to see her if their positions were reversed, and it was the least she could do to try and mend the rift between them. It was worth a try.

"Okay." She says, nodding to reassure herself of her decision. "Take me to him."

Plutarch looks slightly taken aback, as though he had never thought she'd actually agree, but ultimately nods his approval once he's recovered from his shock.

She gets permission from Boggs and follows after the gamemaker, deliberately ignoring the looks she gets from Finnick and Gale as she goes to see the boy with the bread.

* * *

Walking into Peeta's holding cell feels a little like walking into a lion's den.

Katniss takes a deep breath as the two guards assigned to Peeta's post close the large metal doors behind her. She feels trapped, locked inside an inescapable room with a man capable of suffocating her with just his gaze alone. He has so much more fire inside him now that he's been hijacked, so different from the person she used to know. He's changed. But then again, so has she.

"Peeta." She greets, nodding to him.

"Katniss." He greets back, nodding in turn.

She doesn't wait for things to get awkward. "You said you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah," he says, walking over to the metal table in the center of the room, the chains of his handcuffs clanking. "I did."

The scene is very similar to when she had first gone to see Peeta after he'd been hijacked, but the tone and overall feel of this one is very different from the first. The threatening feeling of danger and hostility is all but gone, and he doesn't look at her like he wants to kill her. The way he moves, looks and speaks is so much softer compared to back then, it's almost as though he is finally back to the way he was, the way he used to be before she destroyed the arena. Before the Quell.

"I just wanted to see you." Peeta says, voice much softer and much more gentle. It's almost as though he's speaking to Annie. "Before you left...one last time."

She nods, pretending to understand, before ultimately opening her mouth to ask for a more detailed answer. "Why? I mean...it's not like we're friends or anything. The last time I saw you, you wanted to tell Annie about me and Finnick. Why choose now to play nice?"

It feels like she's just singlehandedly shattered whatever 'moment' they were supposed to be sharing together, but she's tired of keeping her opinions to herself. She wants to know why he's suddenly deciding to act like some semblance of his old self, and if she's going to die within the next few days then she sure as hell better get a straight answer.

Peeta is silent for a while, but not long enough to grate on her nerves before he finally decides to reply.

"I guess...I guess I just wanted to say that...I'm sorry." He says, bowing his head and staring down at his hands.

Katniss' mouth falls open in complete shock, eyes widening as she stares at the young man before her. Peeta continues.

"I know I've put you through a lot. And even though I know you never loved me, I know that I used to really love you...so don't worry about whether or not it's your fault. What happened to me was out of both our hands. I don't blame you. And you shouldn't blame yourself, either."

She brings a hand up to shield her quivering lip as tears sting at her eyes, blurring her vision and rolling off her lashes in little droplets that trail down her cheeks and jaw and neck.

Of all the things that had gone through her mind regarding what he would have to say to her as she followed Plutarch to his cell, an apology had never been one of them. After all, Peeta was a damaged Victor who had so much more to worry about and focus on besides her, whether it be his growing relationship with Annie or his steady-going trip to recovery. And yet here he was, taking time out of his day to apologize and let her know that he was thinking about her. And he wanted her know _what_ he thought of her, too, before she left and he possibly never saw her again. To think – to _know_ – that he cared on such a deep level like that, after such a short amount of time...a better gift could not have been given. Annie must have done wonders for his health.

Without thinking, she crosses the distance between them and wraps her arms around Peeta, squeezing him tightly and sobbing quietly into his shoulder. He stiffens immediately at the contact, and not a second later he's wriggling out of her grasp and pushing her away.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, eyes wide and voice somewhat shaky. "I'm just...I don't want to hurt you."

She nods, understanding completely, and wipes away her tears and steps back to give him some room.

"...I care about you," she croaks, and he looks surprised. "Like I would any friend. And no matter what happens, I want us to still be friends when this is all over."

He gives her a soft smirk. "Yeah...me too."

She stands beside the metal table, just crying and smiling at him, when Plutarch enters the room.

"Katniss-" he pauses to take in the scene before him, and though she doesn't turn around to face him, she can tell by the way Peeta looks at him that he feels as though he's barged in on an intimate moment. "Um...Boggs wants you back with the team. They're heading out in five minutes."

She sniffles, turning to nod her compliance, and follows him out of the room. She stops just as she's halfway through the doors and turns back to face Peeta one last time, memorizing every detail of his face in case this will be the last trace she ever sees of gentle kindness in him again.

"Any last words of advice?" She asks, sniffling and chuckling nervously.

Peeta nods to her, smirking lopsidedly as he replies with a scoff, "Stay alive."

She looks to the ground and tosses out a soundless chuckle as she remembers Haymitch saying those very words just before they went into the Quell together.

She looks back up at him, still smiling, and nods. "I will."

He gives her a nod to let her know that he has every bit of faith that she'll do just that, and Plutarch tells her that they need to leave now if she doesn't want to be left behind.

Katniss finally heeds the gamemaker's warnings, and crosses the threshold separating her from the rest of the world to join Plutarch. The guards close the large metal doors behind her, and as she marches back the way she came to join the rest of her squad, a new wave of tears begin to fight their way to the surface.

In all the years to come, she would never be able to express her full gratitude towards Peeta for letting her go, for releasing her of her own torment and telling her, in his own words, that everything would be okay. She was finally free now. Free to do and think and say whatever she wanted without having to feel guilty or dirty or sick because of it. She was finally severed from that thin string of nonexistent romance between them, and she didn't even have to do anything; it was Peeta who cut the cord.

She had been holding onto him all this time, and even up to the last moment it felt like she was trying to pull someone up from the depths of blackness, someone who wasn't even the same person she thought she knew anymore. She had tried so hard to give him his space, to give him as much time as he needed to get better and recover, but all she had really done was prolong the inevitable. Peeta had saved her from losing a part of herself in order to give him a piece of himself back. He had saved her from the tears and hardships of having to let him go.

She walks with Plutarch back to her team and stands beside Finnick as they listen to Boggs' motivational speech, all the while reveling in the sudden flow of happiness she feels.

Everything is so much lighter now, from her feet to her arms all the way up to her head. It's like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders, and she supposes that it really has. She had gone so long with the heavy burden of being a sister and a lover and a daughter and a symbol that she had nearly forgotten what it felt like to be a normal eighteen-year-old girl. Finnick seems to notice this change in character, but doesn't say anything on account that they're supposed to be paying attention to their Commander.

She notices his posture relax and his face soften, and discreetly lowers her hand away from her gun and inches her fingers towards his, nudging his thumb with her pinkie. It's meant to only be a brief acknowledgement of his presence and a way for her to let him know without words that she appreciates him being here, but he takes it a step further and brazenly grabs hold of her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze before lacing his fingers with hers for the whole world to see.

Heat floods to her face at immense speed, and Boggs clearly notices their joined hands but mercifully decides to ignore it.

She smiles.

No.

She would never be able to repay Peeta.

But she would spend every day of the rest of her life trying.

* * *

They head through the train tunnels of District 12 on foot rather than taking a hovercraft or some other faster means of transportation.

Katniss finds it somewhat of a cruel irony that she would have to march past her broken home in order to get to the man responsible for it – for no other reason than the sake of stealth - but she is more than prepared to do whatever she has to do if it means killing Snow. It was time that he paid for his crimes.

Throughout the time that they walk, she's well aware of Finnick's presence, though he's never directly behind or beside her. She feels his warm gaze on her every now and then, but other than that there is no form of communication between them. She doesn't feel nearly as insecure about this as she normally would, though; since her goodbyes with Peeta, she feels far more confident in herself and their relationship. It's very likely that this is just a phase, a sort of high that will wear off given enough time, but at the moment she doesn't care. Finnick is here, with her, and that's all that matters.

Her other team members – Jackson, twin sisters by the nicknames of Leeg1 and Leeg2, Homes, and Mitchell – all seem less than talkative, especially since they had witnessed she and Finnick's shared kiss after their mission debriefing. They all probably thought she was some kind of tramp and that Finnick was nothing but a no-good snake, going behind Annie's back like that. She's hurt that they think this, that the people she's supposed to be protecting and trusting her life with all assume that she's no better than the Capitol scum they're trying to usurp, but she isn't about to break down and cry about it, either. Not after she's come so far.

Gale didn't seem to hate her, though. If anything, he seemed resolute rather than spiteful, as though he were proud and respectful of her decision, of the fact that she'd finally made her choice. She could never have asked for a better friend. After everything they had been through, amidst all the drama and rumors and gossip that was sure to have gone on about her, he stayed true to her as a friend. He never doubted her, never abandoned her. She wanted to tell him that she was thankful for this, _endlessly_ thankful, but she hadn't found the time or place to do so yet. She would, though. She would make sure of it.

After a good few hours of walking, they come upon a rebel campsite, and decide to rest their aching feet before going the rest of the way to complete their journey. Boggs tells them to take a load off and they're all grateful, plopping down by the nearest campfire and getting themselves something to eat as they prepare for the next morning. It was perfectly timed, too, that they would happen upon this rest stop when they did; their march had been uneventful to the point of severe boredom amongst her teammates, and she feared that if they didn't stop to rest soon they would all start shooting each other to liven things up.

Though she feels uneasy knowing that they're going to be sleeping in a dark tunnel – in a place with absolutely no escape other than the two entrances that are _very_ subject to ambush – she also reasons that the rebels they've met up with have probably been camping here for weeks, and that if they can probably survive another night, then so can she.

She sits with her team around one of the campfires, waiting as one of the rebels pours each of them a bowl of hot soup. She is completely alone on her side of the campfire, with the exception of Gale and Finnick, who sit on either side of her. Their places are like a clock; Homes at ten, Mitchell at eleven, Jackson at twelve, Leeg1 and 2 at one and two, Gale at seven, Finnick at five, and herself at six. Tick-tock...

Thoughts of the Quell flash through her mind, and she mentally curses herself for bringing up such traumatizing thoughts. She blinks and gives her head a quick shake to clear her mind, and ignores the questionable stares she gets from her teammates. Finnick gets up from his spot to accept two bowls of soup from the rebel stranger manning the cauldron of food, and goes to sit back down next to Katniss, his left leg pressing against her right one as he once again makes himself comfortable beside her.

"Hungry?" He whispers, holding out the second bowl of soup.

She doesn't answer, but gratefully accepts what is offered to her all the same. She takes the bowl from his hand, metal spoon clinking around the ceramic rim as she does so, but instead of picking up the utensil and taking a bite of food like she's supposed to, she just holds it in her hands, relishing in the warmth it brings to her chilled fingers.

The smell of meat and vegetables steams up and into her nose, and she closes her eyes as she inhales deeply, the aroma bringing her back to old memories of District 12 and her mother at the stove, of Prim playing with Buttercup and Gale waiting outside for her to hunt, of home.

She cradles the bowl in her lap, finally ready to leave the warm refuge her hands have found and pick up the cold metal spoon, dipping it into the soup and bringing up a healthy amount of meats and veggies as she takes a bite of her piping-hot meal.

Finnick seems to be enjoying the heat provided by their soups just as much as she is, because he takes all the time in the world between warming his hands with his bowl and warming everything else with the food. Though it hadn't been particularly cold during the first half of their walk, the temperature had dropped considerably once they reached the tunnels, and even though they were all decked out in at least ten pounds of gear, their hands and heads still suffered.

The two spend the next hour or so eating and talking by the campfire, occasionally going back for another helping of food. Though Gale and the other five members of their team have left and are now fully engaged in conversation some yards away with Boggs, she and Finnick are the black sheep of the group. No one tries to include either of them in whatever topic it is that they're discussing, and neither of them bother to force their way into someplace they're clearly not wanted. She and Finnick don't talk much either, but the silence is far more desirable than whatever awkward hostility they'd surely endure if they tried to butt their way into Gale's group. Though she's sure that Gale would defend her if she so wished it, she'd much rather hang out on the sidelines with Finnick than be forcibly included in a group conversation she clearly wasn't welcome in by all but two.

Katniss puts down her third bowl of soup, resting it at her left side as she draws her knees up to her chin and stares out at the fire. Finnick is busy working on his fourth helping, and with nothing else to do, she listens to the crackling fire and the ever-present sounds of slurping from the bronze-haired man beside her.

It doesn't bother her at first, but after what feels like an hour of loud and prolonged slurps right next to her ear, she decides that she's had enough.

"Finnick, would you _stop_ that?"

The slurping immediately turns into gagging as Finnick begins choking on his soup, and he resorts to pounding his chest with his fist so he can clear his air passage.

She smiles and rolls her eyes as he dramatically coughs a few times, sighing once he's done. "Are you finished?"

He defiantly coughs once more just to irk her. "...Maybe."

She rolls her eyes again and closes them shut, shaking her head and exhaling long and slow. She feels Finnick lean his head on her shoulder, the spikes of his hair poking at her cheek and neck.

"You tired?" He whispers, and she imagines his own eyes drifting closed as she keeps hers shut.

"..._Maybe_," she answers smartly, albeit tiredly.

Finnick turns his head and nuzzles her neck, burying his face in her braid and soft skin.

Katniss panics. "Woah, _hey!_ Cut it out, there are people watching!"

He lets out a long, whiny moan. "But _Katniiiiiiiss!_ I wanna hug you and kiss you and...all that...other stuff..."

She lets herself smile only because he can't see, and she tiredly lifts her eyelids to look out at the fire, whipping and swirling and constantly changing shape.

She's always been fascinated with fire. The way the flames can dance and twirl and morph and shift and put on a wonderful show while giving heat and cooking food all at the same time. It's amazing, the thought of something being so beautiful, deadly, and useful. And being known as the Girl on Fire, she should know. Maybe that was why Snow wanted her dead.

She breaks out of her reverie to gently remove Finnick from her person. Though she doesn't mind the contact, she also doesn't want her teammates to think any less of her than they already do, and public displays of affection would hardly help the matter.

Finnick begrudgingly complies with her wishes, and the two Victors proceed to leave the comforting warmth of the fire and pitch the tent that they would be sharing for the night.

* * *

Katniss kicks off her right boot as she sits on the uncomfortable army-grade cot inside she and Finnick's tent.

It had taken her at least ten minutes to get all of her gear off (something Finnick had initially been more than happy to help with, but was left disappointed when she ordered him to wait outside) and her boots and pants were the last things to go. She had a spare change of undergarments intended for sleeping in inside her pack – a pair of brown shorts and a tan-colored tank top – which were apparently standard issue for women in the military, but she felt far too exposed and self-conscious to ever go prancing outside her tent in them unless there was an emergency.

Shivering, she opened her backpack and began putting on the rather tight articles of clothing, feeling uneasy at the thought of sharing a tent with Finnick for the night. Granted, she had already seen far more of him than was considered normal (and he of her) but something about being surrounded by a bunch of other tents and people – with almost no privacy and nothing separating them but walls of cloth – doesn't sit well with her. It's not like she and Finnick are planning on _doing_ anything (that was the last thing on her mind right now) but she knew that her other teammates would hardly approve.

It wasn't like it was some sort of anomaly that they were sharing a tent, though – Boggs had assigned all eight members of their team a 'sleeping buddy' so that they could carry half the amount of tents and equipment, which would result in a lighter load for all of them and, therefore, get them to where they needed to go faster. Gale was with Jackson. Leeg1 with Leeg2. Mitchell with Homes. And she with Finnick. So she supposed that she shouldn't feel _too_ guilty – after all, she hadn't been the one to assign herself to Finnick, Boggs had – but she was sure that if they hadn't already (as Gale had put it) 'had something going on', then it never would have turned out that way. Still, she's not about to complain.

She hears rustling outside the tent and Finnick comes strolling in, still dressed in his gear, and she whirls around to face him.

"Finnick!" She hisses, voice a whisper. "I told you to wait outside until I was ready!"

Finnick doesn't respond immediately; he doesn't even roll his eyes. He just stands there, staring at her sleeping garments (or lack thereof) and she feels the need to try and cover herself as a wry grin slowly makes its way to his face. She can't tell if he's just admiring what he sees or trying to keep from bursting out with laughter, but either way she doesn't appreciate being gawked at.

She bends down and picks up her boot, hurling it at his head. He snaps out of his trance and dodges just in time, letting out a painful cry of 'ow!' as the heavy shoe grazes his cheek and ear and she crosses her arms in triumph.

"Serves you right!" She says, holding her chin high.

Her victory, unfortunately, is short-lived. Finnick grins like a madman and charges towards her, grabbing hold of her waist and hefting her into the air before playfully slamming her back down on the cot behind her (gently, of course). She laughs and struggles to get out from under him, not wanting Boggs or Gale or anyone else to come waltzing in and see them in a rather controversial position, but Finnick is having none of it. He wraps his arms tighter around her and buries his face in her neck, causing her to giggle even more when his nose tickles the tiny hairs on her skin.

_"So,"_ Finnick breathes, pulling away to look in her eyes. "You wanna help me outta these clothes? I'm just dying to show you what _my_ sleeping garments look like."

She sputters and tries to raise a hand to slap him, but is unable to due to the fact that he's so close. She calms her breath and steadies her heart rate, taking time to stare at the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. She takes in his sea-green irises, his tanned skin, his wrinkles (however few there are), his nose, mouth, jaw, hair...all of it. She doesn't know what's come over her, but she can't help but stare at every part of him with love and adoration. He's far from perfect, and so is she, but together she thinks that a better match could not have been made. She loved him.

"...Do you love me?" She asks, voice low as she continues to study him.

He furrows his brows and blinks, chuckling in confusion. "What?"

"Do you love me?" She asks again, though by her tone one would never guess that it was a serious question.

"I...of _course_ I do!" He says, somewhat defensively. "Why would you think that I don't?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she moves right along to her next point. "I severed ties with Peeta."

He blinks, body going rigid as he stares down at her with wide eyes. "You...what?"

"I let him go," she says, finding strength in her voice as she says it. "Right before we left for the Capitol."

A slow smile makes its way to his mouth, expression a mixture of disbelief and wonder. "You...you did?"

"Yes." She says proudly, smiling herself. "And I want to know if you spoke with Annie before we left."

Finnick's smile quickly fades, and she knows that the moment they'd been sharing is now over. He looks offended, as though she's just accused him of the worst possible crime one could commit while in a relationship with another person, and though she hadn't meant it as a judgment or interrogation, she knows that's how he's going to take it.

He begins to get off of her, but the minute her hands are free she desperately sits up and grasps at the loose fabric of his sleeves, pulling him back towards her.

"Finnick, no, that's not what I meant-"

"Is that what you think of me?" He asks, cutting her off. "That I would even _consider_ going on a life-threatening mission without letting Annie know how I feel? That I would risk _dying_ and have her still believe that I loved her? That I would lead her on?"

She gapes, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. "I...I-"

"Is that what you think?" He says again, voice raised and brows furrowed with anxiety.

"I..._No!_" She says, putting a hand to her forehead when her voice comes out too loud. She'd forgotten that other people were listening. "I just...I wanted to know, okay? I don't _care_ if you have or you haven't talked to her. I just want to know. I'm sick of keeping secrets, and I don't want that for us. I'll still-"

She stops herself.

_I'll still love you._

Why couldn't she say it? Why was it so hard to get those four little words out?

"...I just don't want there to be anything standing between us." She finishes, averting her gaze and waiting for him to react.

Finnick stands on his knees at the edge of her cot, silently processing the meaning behind her words. The silence gets uncomfortable after a while, and she tries not to fidget in her anxiousness to get an answer.

"Yes."

Her head snaps up, gray meeting green as she stares hopefully at him.

"Yes?" She whispers, though she's not aware that she's spoken.

"Yes," he says again, assuring her. "I spoke with Annie before we left. I decided to let her know about us last night, right after Boggs and Plutarch briefed us on our mission."

_After you kissed me_, she thinks, going back to the moment in her mind.

"...How is she?" She asks, feeling concern and guilt on Annie's part.

"She's fine," he says, sounding more happy than she thought he would. "She said that she'd always care about me, and that she wanted us to be happy. She didn't really cry like I thought she would. But then again, I guess I have Peeta to thank for that."

Peeta. His name doesn't bring feelings of shame or guilt like it used to, but of happiness and resolution, of finality. She's more than glad to give him up to Annie if it means that they'll both be happy, and judging from what she's seen of their interactions so far, she has nothing to worry about.

"Oh..." She says, not really knowing what else to say. "Well, I'm proud of you. I know it must have been hard."

She reaches up a hand and strokes his face, running her thumb back and forth across his cheekbone as her fingers brush over his hair. He sighs and leans into her touch, and she gives him a chaste kiss on the lips. They stare understandingly at one another for a moment, and Finnick reluctantly breaks the trance by pushing himself up into a standing position and backing away a few steps. He turns to see if the tent flap is properly closed, and then proceeds to take off his vest and combat boots.

Katniss has the decency to look away as he takes off his gear and gets into the sleeping garments provided for him in his backpack, and once he's done she slides into the covers of her cot and lay down, watching as he moves to turn out the single lantern hanging from the ceiling of their tent.

"See, Fire Girl?" He says confidently, gesturing to his clothes. "What'd I tell ya?"

She looks, unimpressed, at his sleeping garments. "...They're _exactly_ like mine."

He hisses through his teeth. "I know, right? Good thing we're not in the Capitol yet. They'd make us suffer through Who Wore It Best."

Katniss rolls her eyes and turns over, shifting uncomfortably in her stiff cot. Darkness consumes her vision as Finnick shuts off the lantern, and she hears him pad over to his own cot. She shuts her eyes, opening them a moment later when she hears a scraping, grating sound. Even though she can't see anything, she still scoffs as she listens to Finnick pushing his cot until it's right next to hers, connecting them into a larger bed.

"The whole world didn't just hear _that._" She whispers sarcastically, shaking her head and pulling the covers up to her chin.

The cot squeaks as Finnick lays down in it, right beside her, but she doesn't complain in the least when he wraps an arm around her and pulls her close. Her body heat is seeping right through the thin cloth of the cot, and even though she has a blanket, it does little in the way of warmth.

"Hey, you're lucky I'm being as gentlemanly as I am," he whispers back, breath fanning against her ear. "Those shorts are pretty short and I'm only human."

She sighs, long and low, in place of reaching back and outright slapping him. She's tells herself it's because she's too tired and that she doesn't want to cause a spectacle for all of her other teammates to gossip about, but a little voice in the back of her head tells her that she's enjoying the ridiculous flattery.

They're both silent long enough for her vision to return to her, and as she stares out at the dull, orange light from the campfire bouncing off the walls of their tent, Finnick decides to take the opportunity to speak.

"...You know I would never let anything happen to you. Right?"

The suddenness of the question and the softness in his voice startles her, and though she's somewhat disturbed that he's thinking of things like death and regrets, she can't blame him for it either. She takes her time answering, making sure to keep her voice low enough that only he can hear.

"Um...yeah. Yeah, I know that. Why?"

He pulls her closer to him and rests his head atop hers. "Because if we die tomorrow, or after tomorrow, or however long it takes us to win this thing, I want you to know that I'd do anything and everything to keep you safe."

She rolls over at this, facing him and looking into his eyes in the darkness. "Why would you think that we're going to die?"

"I don't," he admits, looking away and fiddling with a loose thread on his blanket. "I just want to be sure that you trust me with stuff like that...just in case."

She smiles, although it's weak. "You do know that I've trusted you with my life plenty of times before, right? I couldn't have made it out of the Quell without you."

He looks back up at her, but not at her eyes, and she wonders whether or not his night vision is as good as hers is.

"Well yeah...but you kind of _had_ to trust me, you know? This is different. You have a _choice_. And I just wanna know if that choice is me."

Katniss' breath stills, taken aback by his words. She had always guessed at his insecurities regarding their relationship and Gale and Peeta and whether or not she truly loved him, but she never knew they ran this deep. If she had known that he spent so much of his time mulling over these things in his head, that _this_ was where his mind wandered off to, torturing himself with the probability of the answers she would give, she would have quelled these thoughts much sooner.

"...I trust a lot of people," she says, pacing herself for what she's about to say. "Every day. I trust Prim to take care of our mother, I trust Gale to stay my friend, I trust Coin to lead the rebellion, I trust Annie to help Peeta..." She trails off once she sees the whithering look of disdain and uncertainty in his eyes, and she reaches over to cup his face in her hands. "But when it comes right down to it, when it's _life or death_, I will _always_ choose you. Always."

The relief that floods his face is immense, and the tension between them dissipates as he lets go of the breath he's been holding. Finnick wraps his arms around her and hugs her tight, and she in turn wraps hers around his head and cradles him beneath her chin. He pulls her closer until they're practically sharing the same cot, and she honestly doesn't know how they're both fitting onto it. But Finnick is warm, and she's none too keen on sleeping on the hard metal bars that frame their cots just so she can be close to a heat source. They'll just have to share.

She snuggles as close as she possibly can to her living furnace, and with nothing else to be said or done, they slowly drift to sleep.

* * *

They head out the next morning and continue down the train tunnel, walking for what feels like miles before reaching the end.

Eventually they come out at the Capitol's train station, where Katniss remembers being with Peeta many times during their Games and Victory Tour. The station is completely void of Capitol soldiers, instead being overtaken by a large encampment of rebels. Boggs orders them to stop and take a breather while he speaks with the leader of the camp, and she, Finnick, and Gale all take the opportunity to sit by one of the fires and get lunch.

They talk about menial things, like the chilly weather and what they're going to do when the war's over. Gale tells her that he's probably going to get married and start a family, though he doesn't know how he'll accomplish this or who it will be with. Katniss is silent on the matter, along with Finnick. She gets the feeling that neither of them have thought much about what they're going to do after they kill Snow. After all, they were both so invested in their mission (her especially) that the thought of what came after it had been completed was, for lack of a better term, a blank spot.

She initially supposes that she never really thought she would survive in the first place, which would explain why she never dwelled much on the future. But in reality, she knows that she doesn't want to die. Not now. Not when things are finally starting to get better for her. Not when Finnick loves her and Peeta doesn't hate her guts and Annie respects her and Prim is still alive. Not now.

"What about you, Katniss?" Gale asks, and she snaps out of her reverie.

"Huh?"

"What do you want to do when it's all over?"

She looks at him, intent on answering, but her attention is snagged by something else in the distance; Leeg2 is off on her own, walking along the sidewalk leading away from camp. She doesn't know why she does it at first, but she gets up from her spot next to Finnick and Gale and begins walking, hurrying, jogging towards her. It's then when an image of Plutarch's holograph of the Capitol enters her mind and she remembers; there's a pod there.

She breaks into a run, pushing past soldiers and leaping over ammo boxes as images of the holo and the pods and Leeg1 flash through her mind.

She yells after her - "NO, DON'T!" - but it's too late.

Leeg2's right foot is already in motion, and she has just enough time to turn her head to look at her as the trigger goes off. A spray of metal darts fan out below her, shooting upwards and covering her entire body like a pincushion. One of them hits her brain.

Katniss' footsteps stop along with her breath, and she doesn't even notice as Leeg1 shoves past her to get to her sister. People rush past and someone yells to get a medic, but it's too late. Leeg2 has already passed away.

Finnick comes up behind her just as she's beginning to fall to her knees, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her upright and whispering comforting things into her ear, but she's so shocked and so shaken that it hardly registers. Leeg1 sits with her dead sister's head in her hands, cradling the lifeless shell as she leans over and kisses her forehead, sobs and tears and wails filling the air.

Katniss begins crying herself, hot tears rolling down her cold face as she lifts a hand to cover her mouth. It feels as though she's watching herself mourning her own sister, mourning Prim, and a newer, stronger wave of sadness and sorrow wash over her as she thinks of just how terrible that would be.

Boggs makes his way to the front of the group and joins Leeg1's side, kneeling down and whispering something into her ear before getting back up and ordering everyone but Squad 451 away. The crowd slowly disperses, and Boggs looks at the members of his team, sadness in his eyes. He slowly walks up to Katniss and Finnick, stopping to look at them.

"...Take care of her." He says, voice gentle. "And meet me after you've taken care of the body. I need to speak with Coin and let her know what happened."

Katniss nods, though she doesn't feel herself do so, and their Commander gives a resigned sigh as he resumes his trek back into camp.

They stand watching Leeg1 cry over her sister – she, Finnick, Mitchell, Jackson, and Homes – not one of them daring to speak on account of there being nothing to say. Nothing in the way of words would bring back Leeg2. Gale comes up beside her, taking the place of where Boggs had been just moments before.

"What should we do with the body?" He whispers, staring out at the sad scene with the rest of them.

Anger bubbles inside Katniss, but sorrow replaces it a moment later. Though it bothers her that Gale would be so insensitive, she can't blame him for wanting to deal with the problem. They would have to hike miles back the way they came to bury her - there was nothing but cold cement and unfeeling concrete wherever they looked here in the Capitol - and putting her in something as crude as a body bag would be devastating for Leeg1. But those were their only two options. They could cremate her, but she doubted if Boggs or anyone else would be willing to send a smoke signal to Snow and risk getting themselves and everyone else in camp killed over the loss of one woman. Granted, there were plenty of campfires around, but they were little and the smoke was controlled. There was only one rational option to go with.

Katniss steels herself, reigning in her tears and sniffling a bit before answering.

"...We wait." She says, noticing Gale's head turn towards her. "We let her grieve. And when she's done, we put the body in a bag to be sent back to 13 where she can have a proper burial."

The silence that surrounds her is that of an unhappy agreement, and no one tries to argue or rebuff her.

They watch in silence as Leeg1's cries fill the air.

* * *

Hours later, they find themselves in a large tent with Boggs, all sitting around him in a circle as he delivers the news of he and Coin's talk about Leeg2.

The dead twin had been sealed in a body bag and was on its way to District 13, where it would be greeted by the rebels and Coin and, at some point, the twins' father. Katniss shuddered to think of the horrible discovery he would make.

Leeg1 quietly sniffles in the corner at the edge of the circle, away from everyone else, and Katniss feels a pebble form in her throat at the sight. She has to look away in order to focus on Boggs.

"I spoke with Coin," Boggs says, voice solemn. "She says she'll send a _speedy_ _replacement_."

He says it like he's disgusted, and she doesn't blame him; how could Coin be so heartless? _She'll send a speedy replacement?_ Leeg2 had a grieving sister left behind and absolutely _no_ condolences sent from the woman who's supposed to be encouraging them to win this rebellion? _What the hell was that?_

The room is silent with the exception of Leeg1's sobs, and Boggs says nothing more, turning to pat her comfortingly on the shoulder before disappearing outside the tent.

Katniss wants to scream.

* * *

Two days later, they get their replacement.

They're all sitting by the fire after testing their sharpshooting skills, listening to a bawling Leeg1, when a figure emerges at the edge of their not-so-social circle.

Katniss does a double-take, unsure of whether or not her mind is playing tricks on her.

Short hair.

Tall.

Muscular build.

Worn eyes.

"...Johanna?" She says, amazed.

Johanna smirks. "Long time no see, Brainless."

* * *

**A/N: BOOM, I bet ya didn't see THAT comin', am I right? :D I thought it was messed up that Suzanne Collins didn't elaborate on Leeg2's death. It was just like 'on the fourth day Leeg2 died, oh well' and I thought that it could have been a really heart-wrenching scene if she had wanted it to. Whatever, though. That's what fanfiction's for.**

**I was originally going to have Peeta tag along like he does in the books, but after I wrote the whole 'Peeta/Katniss forgiveness' scene I decided that it just wouldn't have been right. Plus Johanna's awesome, and I would have loved to have seen her tag along in either the film or the book (granted, the movie's not out yet, but still).**

**Anyway, PLEASE tell me what you think! This chapter is kind of my baby right now and I would LOVE to know whether or not you liked it. A simple 'awesome chapter!' will do if you don't know what to say (assuming you liked it, that is). ****I'm not sure when I'll be updating again, but it definitely won't be this month. I'll get to it as fast as I can though, you can bet on that ;)**

**'Til next time!**


	26. Pt IV: Tempest to Twister

**A/N: 11/07/2015 Hey there! I'm back! :D Good to know that Johanna's presence in place of Peeta was so well accepted by everyone. I mean I know _I_ love her but I wasn't sure about all of you. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the Johanna-ness of this chapter ;)**

**Thank you to elfielovesbooks, outside the crayon box, Manaliac, Guest, A Huge Fan, Keeper, ilookhotinblack, Flames of Sage, and Anigen for your reviews!**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 23 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 40 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-six: Tempest to Twister~

* * *

Johanna's presence is accepted by all but Leeg1, who seems quietly hostile toward the woman who can never replace her sister.

Johanna doesn't seem to mind this in the least, however, and although she doesn't really know anyone but Finnick, Gale, and herself, Katniss feels that the ax-wielding woman will be a welcome advantage to the team.

Night falls and Boggs orders them all to get some rest, as they'll be setting out tomorrow to capture and secure another block of the Capitol for the rebel cause first thing in the morning. Their goal of getting to Snow's mansion had been delayed by two days because of the time it took for Johanna to arrive, but no one seemed to really mind. To Squad 451, they were just two more days that they would survive.

Katniss lies awake in her cot, staring up at the canvas ceiling of she and Finnick's tent as she thinks of what's going to happen in the next few days and listens to the soft snoring of her sleeping buddy. Though she knows she's only doing herself in by staying up so late (or was it early? She wasn't sure anymore) she also couldn't help that she was having so much trouble getting to sleep.

Sighing in resignation, she carefully removes Finnick's arm from across her torso and gets up from her cot, the tight cloth squeaking loudly against the cold metal frame as she does so. She takes her blanket and wraps it around her, not wanting to be seen in her sleeping garments, and, as quietly as she can, lifts the tent flap and steps outside.

She doesn't expect to find Johanna (or anyone else, for that matter) sitting rather sourly in a foldable camping chair next to one of the fancy portable heaters the rebels had found in one of the buildings after they had taken the block. She brazenly lounges in her sleeping garments, acting as though it couldn't be more normal if she were wearing snow pants and a sweater, and Katniss freezes, unsure if she should sit down or not. But Johanna has already noticed her, so it hardly matters.

"You gonna sit down or what?" She asks, not bothering to keep her voice low.

Katniss stands rooted to her spot, taken aback by her bluntness, but then she recounts all of their training sessions back at District 13 and remembers that this is nothing new, and ultimately moves to join her in an empty chair. The dull glow of the heater is just bright enough for her to make out Johanna's form and the large ammunition boxes behind her, but all else is blackness.

They sit staring at the heater in silence, and Katniss discreetly takes the opportunity to observe the woman next to her. Her hair has grown in a bit, she notices, spiky black tendrils poking up from her scalp, and she's far more irritable than she remembers. But then again, her memory regarding little details as these has never been that great.

"So, what are you doing up?" Katniss whispers tiredly, yawning.

Johanna scoffs, bouncing her foot on her knee. "Pfft. Like_ I_ want to share a tent with _Leeg_."

She looks towards the fire, feeling stupid. "Oh."

"_So_," Johanna says, mocking her from earlier. "How did you and Finnick get to share a tent?"

She says it very snarkily, as though it's the worst piece of gossip imaginable and she's just _dying_ to hear her bumbling explanation, but Katniss isn't prepared to give anything but the boring truth.

"Boggs assigned us all sleeping partners," she says, tone neutral. "Me and Finnick were paired up. I had nothing to do with it."

Johanna's expression turns dry. "_Oh_. Way to spoil the fun, Brainless. The least you coulda done was lie to me."

Katniss smiles. She didn't mean to suck the fun out of whatever Johanna could find to entertain herself, but she wasn't a liar. Not anymore. And she wasn't about to go back to being one for the mere sake of entertainment.

She sighs, trying to find the right way to word the question that's been begging to leave her lips since Johanna's arrival. "So, um...how did...I mean, why are you...h- how-"

"How did I get here instead of some other rebellion dweeb?" She finishes, brows raised in amusement.

"...Yeah." She finishes lamely. "I thought you failed your training?"

She remembers hearing something about Johanna not making it past her exam, but she was so occupied with Finnick and Peeta and getting ready for their mission that she didn't have time to check in with her and see if it were true or not. She feels guilty now that she thinks about it, especially considering all the countless hours they'd spent together in training. But Johanna doesn't seem bitter, at least not towards her, so neither does she. Still, she bites her tongue to keep from mentioning it all the same.

Johanna shrugs. "I did. But after Boggs called and told Coin about what happened to Leeg2, she decided that she needed to send out a replacement. She was _going_ to send Peeta but Annie didn't want him to go and he didn't really want to leave either. So they sent me."

Katniss pinches her brows together in contemplation. "Oh."

Johanna sighs. "Yeah. Coin said it would probably be good for you to have another person you were familiar with on the team. Or some crap like that. I don't remember."

Silence envelopes them once more, and once it grows uncomfortable for her, Katniss decides to ask yet another question that is meaningful to her yet pointless to Johanna.

"How are things back home? Back in 13?"

"Fine, I guess. Considering the circumstances. Peeta's been roaming the halls like he _owns_ the place ever since you left and spends every _waking_ minute with 'Annie'-" she pauses to make a sound of disgust, much like a young child who hates romance "-and Coin is having a hay-day trying to organize Snow's assassination and order everyone around at the same time. Your mom and sister are fine, I think. I mean I haven't heard anything bad, so I guess they're alright. Everything's about what you'd expect considering we're all _screwed_."

"What do you mean Peeta's roaming the halls?" She asks, confused. "They let him out?"

Johanna turns her head to look at her, nodding with more enthusiasm than one should at the prospect of drama. "Mhm. With you gone, they figured there wasn't any reason to keep him locked up anymore. He's been pretty good lately, especially with Annie to keep him company. Far as I know, he hasn't killed anyone, so I guess that's a good sign. Personally, I think it's just because Coin plans on using him to boost the rebellion effort, but whatever."

"Why would that have anything to do with the rebellion?" Katniss asks, and Johanna widens her eyes at the heater to show that she's testing her patience.

"_Because_," she explains through clenched teeth. "Coin planned on using Peeta in the first place. She thought that his baby face and good manners would look good in a propo. She was going to rescue _him_ from the Quell but Plutarch insisted on you. Didn't you _know_ that?"

No, she didn't know that. She didn't know any of it. It was news to her. Plutarch had never said anything of the sort, and certainly not Coin or Boggs. All this time she'd thought she was something special, some sort of diamond in the rough that everyone else but her could see. Imagine her surprise when she found that she couldn't have been more wrong.

"Well, I guess that makes sense, then." She says offhandedly, and Johanna looks at her.

"What does?" She asks, arms crossed.

"Why Coin has always been so unfriendly towards me." She says.

"You mean why she's always been such a bitch to you?" Johanna vulgarly corrects.

Katniss smiles. "Yeah. That."

They sit in a comfortable silence, Katniss in her blanket and Johanna in her sleeping garments, staring into the heater until their vision becomes nothing but sunspots and orange swirls. She doesn't know how long they sit there, but it's not long enough to care about the time. The sun isn't coming up any time soon, so she hardly thinks twice about staying just a little longer beside her abrasive friend.

"...I think I'm gonna turn in," she says eventually, slowly getting up from her chair. She feels like an elderly person – her muscles tired and her bones creaking – and it's almost enough to make her laugh. "I need all the rest I can get if I'm going to be of any use tomorrow."

Johanna doesn't sigh or scoff, or roll her eyes, but continues to impatiently bounce her foot as she watches her retreat back into her tent. "Fine by me. As long as Leeg1's my tent buddy, _I'm_ not goin' to sleep any time soon."

Katniss hides her face in her blanket to shield her smile, and lifts the flap to her tent.

"Hey."

She turns, eyes focusing once more on Johanna.

"Give Finnick my best," she says, smirking wryly.

Heat floods to her face in a fierce blush, and Katniss doesn't even bother trying to explain that she and Finnick weren't _nearly_ that promiscuous, least of all in war times. Even if she did, her words would fall on deaf ears. Instead, she lets Johanna have her fun, and walks back inside her tent to get some sleep.

She carefully pads back over to her cot and lays down, cursing the blasted thing for making so much noise, and settles on her side to try and absorb some of Finnick's warmth. He mumbles something incoherent and rolls over to face her, slinging an arm over top her waist before going back to the soft snores she's grown so accustomed to these past few days.

She finds it funny how much he tosses and turns in his sleep, but it's most definitely preferable to being awoken by nightmares every two hours. She can't remember the last time she had a nightmare, but then again, she can't remember the last time she had a dream, period. She doesn't care much, though. Because a life without dreams is a small sacrifice compared to a life without Finnick.

She snuggles close and shuts her eyes, and moments before she drifts to sleep, thinks of the different ways she and Johanna prepare for the horrors that are sure to await them.

* * *

When Boggs had said 'bright and early', he hadn't been kidding.

The sun is just rising by the time they're all roused from sleep, and they hurry to put on their gear and gather outside for breakfast. There are many yawns but no complaints, and within an hour of waking, they're on their way to deactivate pods and secure another block of the Capitol for the sake of the rebellion.

They follow single-file after Boggs, and Katniss feels Johanna's eyes on her every now and then as she walks behind Finnick, staring smug holes into her skull. She almost wants to ask permission to switch spots with someone, but in the end she keeps her mouth shut and bears through the repercussions of she and Finnick's now public relationship.

Boggs comes to a halt at the front of the line and signals for them to stop, telling them that they've reached their destination. He pulls out the tiny holo Plutarch had given him containing a map of the Capitol as well as marked points for all of the known pods, and Katniss and the rest of her squad crowd around him to have a look.

"There's a gunfire pod just up the way," Boggs says, briefly looking up and pointing down the street. "We can trigger it with bullets and take cover until it runs out of steam. On me."

He orders everyone to take defensive positions around the block – Mitchell and Homes are stationed behind a dumpster, Leeg1 and Jackson behind the corner of a building, Johanna and Finnick in the indent of a shop entrance, and herself in another right across from them. Gale and Boggs are the only ones without proper cover, but she doesn't question it as she knows that the safety of their squad is their Commander's top priority.

Gale raises his gun and fires, activating the pod, and although everyone else is already fairly safe, they duck to the ground all the same. A turret rises from the gunfire pod and sprays out a seemingly endless amount of bullets. They come so fast that it turns into a single, continuous sound, the volume of which pierces her ears to the point that she has to cover them. Katniss peeks through squinted eyes as she stares at Johanna and Finnick on the other side of the street, both digging themselves as far back into the building's recess as the concrete will allow.

A few more long, tense seconds pass and the gunfire eventually stops, the only sounds being that of the dying whir of the empty barrel and the ringing in her ears. Boggs calls out that it's safe and Squad 451 slowly steps out from their cover, cautiously eying the dead pod as they regroup.

"Okay, let's move forward," Boggs orders, and they obey.

They head into an alleyway and walk past another block, remaining vigilant as they look for any signs of newer, unmarked pods that don't show up in the holo Plutarch gave them. There have been no signs of Peackeepers up to this point, but Boggs had said they would all be towards the heart of the Capitol, closer to Snow, and considering the fact that they were still within walking distance of the rebel camp, it wasn't really much of a surprise.

"Okay, hold up," Boggs says, raising a closed fist to signal they stop. "There's a pod up ahead. I'm gonna go check it and see if it's still active. All of you wait here."

He marches ahead and they obey, though Katniss desperately wants to call him back. She doesn't know why, but there's something extremely unsettling about just standing there while he goes off alone, about doing nothing when their squad leader is in potential danger. But she isn't the leader, and she's already broken rank more times than she can count, and so she says nothing.

They stand waiting a few more moments and Mitchell whispers something to Jackson, to which she sniggers, and Katniss ignores the fact that it's most likely something about her. Instead, she watches Boggs come to a stop at the end of the alley, sees him bend down to inspect something on the ground.

And that's when the pod goes off.

There's an explosion and Boggs is lost in a cloud of smoke, and Katniss' feet are moving before she can even fully comprehend what's happened. She's sure that the others are calling her name, but she doesn't hear them; the explosion shocked her ears into temporary deafness, and all she cares about is reaching her Commander.

The first thing she sees when she reaches the pod is Boggs' leg. It's lying at an odd angle, obscured by smoke, but she doesn't question it as she reaches down to pull him towards her. She grabs onto his boot and gives it a strong yank, falling backwards when the weight behind her pull and the weight of his body don't match up. She falls onto her butt, confusion quickly turning to horror. She's holding Bogg's foot, yes, but it isn't connected to him. Her eyes travel up his combat boot to the top of his shin, and that's where it ends. The ripped cloth of his pantleg is soaked with blood and small chunks of meat, and a shriek rises from her throat as she tosses the severed limb.

The rest of her team get to her just in time to see what's wrong, and as the smoke finally clears, they see Boggs a few feet away, slumped against the side of a building. Finnick helps her up and they rush to him, squatting down in a semi-circle as squad 451 huddles around its leader. Boggs coughs, sputtering up blood as he struggles to keep his eyes open. Both of his legs are gone, and Katniss shudders to think of where the other one is.

"Boggs!" She calls, desperate. "Boggs!"

She clenches her eyes shut. This was bad. So very bad. Yet another one of her friends was dying and once again there was nothing she could do. For a woman capable of starting wars and leveling mountains, she sure felt useless.

"K...Kat...niss..."

She looks up, tears poking painfully through her ducts, and stares earnestly at Boggs. He weakly reaches into his pocket and hands her a small object, and she sees that it's the holo.

"S...say...your name..." he says, just barely getting the words out.

Taking a moment to clear her voice, she obeys through a wave of tears. "K...Katniss Everdeen."

The holo opens up and scans her face, and she numbly waits as it does its job. The holo closes back up and beeps, a small red light blinking twice quickly before going silent. She's about to ask what it all means, when Boggs' eyes finally drift closed, involuntarily excusing himself from the horrors that have been brought upon him. Katniss' breath stills, and she timidly reaches over to shake him awake.

"...Boggs? Boggs..._Boggs_!"

"Forget about him, he's dead!" Leeg1 cries, and suddenly Katniss is taken back to the moment Leeg2 died.

The air is thick with tension and ripe for an argument, but none of them ever get that far; a loud rumbling sound comes from their left, and they simultaneously look up to see a giant black mass rolling towards them. It reminds her of the wave in the Quell, only thicker and glistening – oil-like, even - and far more dangerous. They watch, all mesmerized, as the wave rises higher and higher, blotting out the sun and covering them in shadow before someone finally comes to their senses and shouts for them to move. She doesn't know who it is – it could have been Jackson, it could have been Gale - but it doesn't matter. They have to move, and they have to do it now.

She and Homes grab hold of Boggs' arms and drag him along with them, lagging behind as they follow after Finnick and the others. They weave in and out of the alleyways and between buildings, coming out at a large set of circular stone stairs leading to the rest of the apartments. Gale and Leeg1 are in the lead, paving a clear path ahead for them to follow, and Katniss thinks that they might just get out of this alive. They ascend the stairs with Boggs, the muscles in their legs working overtime to make up for the loss of their Commander's. She doesn't know how, but they make it to the top and back onto flat concrete, the tread of their boots digging for purchase as they continue to run blindly along the streets and ignore the ever-growing sound of the wave as it crashes toward them.

She's lost track of Johanna and Finnick, but she sees Mitchell up ahead, running towards an apartment building. She redirects she and Homes' destination to follow after him, but another pod activates and before she knows it, Mitchell is caught in a razor-tipped net. They stop just long enough to see it close up on him, squeezing him like a grape and puncturing his body with a thousand tiny knives, before Homes jerks on Boggs' left arm and yells for her to run.

The black wave is getting closer, much too close for them to ever think they'll be safe, but she ignores the creeping feeling of death coming upon her as she and Homes make it into an apartment building. They drag Boggs up two flights of stairs and burst into the first apartment they see, waving their guns around and scanning the area for Peacekeepers and Capitol citizens. Homes lets go of Boggs and runs to the windows to observe the wave outside, and Katniss sits on her knees with their Commander's head cradled in her lap.

She's just beginning to wonder if Finnick or Gale or any of the others made it to safety when the door on the other side of the room bursts open and her teammates file in. Gale, Leeg1, Johanna, Jackson, and Finnick run around the apartment shutting doors and closing windows, making sure they're secured. She hears the black wave flood past them as they move, the building seeming to sway from the force of it. She instinctively clutches Boggs tighter, hoping that this won't be the moment when they all die and their mission officially becomes a failure. The sounds quiet down after a minute or two, and Katniss' grip loosens as their entire squad takes a breather.

"...Mitchell?" She asks, images of his terrified face flashing through her mind as she looks up at them.

Gale just shakes his head.

Boggs coughs, and she focuses her attention back on the injured man in her lap.

"Kat...Katniss..." He strains, and she shushes him.

"Shhh, Boggs, don't speak. It's okay, you're-"

He shakes his head. "No...this is...it for me..."

His eyes begin to fall closed, and Katniss cups his face, trying to coax him awake.

"No. No, Boggs, you're- you're gonna be alright. You're gonna be okay, you're-"

He reaches over and rests his hand over hers, which is still clutching the holo, and gently closes her fist over it. He smiles.

"Take good...care of...it..."

Tears fill her eyes and she bites her lip to keep it from quivering, Boggs' smiling face blurring from her vision.

This was it. This was the moment when everything fell apart. The moment when her leader and friend drifted away from her forever, and she was left to make sense of everything all on her own. She was doomed to repeat this gruesome punishment for the rest of her days, it seemed. Rue. Cinna. Wiress. The people in the hospital in District 8. The people in the Nut. Leeg2. Mitchell. And now Boggs. All dead because of her. Because _she_ wasn't good enough. She had never been good enough...

A sob escapes her and she clutches Boggs' vest, lowering her forehead to meet his as her tears fall from her face and onto his own.

She doesn't watch the light fade from his eyes, she _feels_ it; his shallow breathing becomes shallower and his body becomes heavier, and a tiny piece of her heart flakes off with his and rises through the air, taking flight toward the skies and never to be seen again. It's almost like a gasp, a small action that means next to nothing and yet close to everything all at the same time. That final intake of breath, that feeling you get when you know it'll be your last, the sweet time you take to raise your chest, the crescendo when your lungs have reached their capacity, and then, finally, the slow exhale as the soul leaves its body and you, in turn, leave the world it's connected to. It's almost beautiful. But as she raises her head to stare at him, all Katniss feels is grief.

Her cries are all that fills the abandoned apartment, but her sadness is shared by everyone. The moment of silence Squad 451 takes in honor of Commander Boggs lasts for a full ten minutes, and Finnick has to gently pry her away from the dead man's body. What was she going to do now? Without direction, her team was next to useless. Boggs was the only one out of their entire squad that everyone agreed with and respected, and now he was gone.

"I didn't see anyone in the street when the wave went off," Homes says quietly, trying to get their minds back onto their mission. "They must have set it off manually when they realized we were here."

"Right," Jackson says, snapping out of her own sadness to join Homes. She sniffles and wipes her eyes, stepping forward and holding out her hand to Katniss. "Give me the holo."

Katniss defensively clutches the object she desires, intent on doing no such thing as Finnick holds her close. "No."

Jackson scoffs. "What do you mean, 'no'? In case you don't remember, _I'm_ the one in charge after Boggs. _Not_ you."

It wasn't a lie. Jackson was next in line for command, Boggs himself had said so. But he had given the holo to her, not Jackson, and so there must be a reason as to why she wasn't immediately calling the shots right now. She would just have to deal with the fact that things weren't going according to plan.

"Boggs left me in charge," she says, tone firm despite her drying tears. "And if you _really_ want to honor him, then you'll follow the last orders he gave before giving up his _life_ to protect the rest of us."

Jackson's eyes bulge with rage. "_Excuse_ me? You think that just because-"

"Hey, give it a rest, okay?" Johanna cuts in, clearly annoyed. "Our Commander just _died_ and you're worried about who's in charge of some stupid holograph? Go make yourself useful and activate a pod or something."

Finnick agrees. "Yeah, if you think you're just going to step in and take control of this squad, then you've got another thing coming."

Jackson sneers at him. "Well if you think I'm going to take orders from a little Capitol _harlot_, then _you've_ got another thing coming."

That does it. The final straw that breaks the camel's back.

There's a single, short second of shocked silence before Finnick lunges at Jackson, ready to tear her limbs off. She raises her gun a little too late to defend herself, firing into the ceiling as he shoves her into a large picture frame on the wall. The glass shatters and falls to the floor, and everyone but Katniss and Johanna move to pry them off of each other. Punches are thrown and kicks are landed, and by the time they've been completely separated to opposite ends of the room, everyone has a gun being pointed at them.

"Hey!" Gale shouts, stepping into the middle of the room and gesturing for everyone to calm down. "_No_ one's shooting anyone here! Let's be rational. _Yes,_ Jackson is supposed to be in charge if Boggs dies. But he transfered the holo over to _Katniss_, and there's nothing we can do about that except deal with it. Katniss is our leader now. And if she dies, I'm sure she'll be more than willing to hand it over to someone else."

A beat passes and Jackson begrudgingly lowers her gun, along with Homes and Leeg1, and Johanna and Finnick follow suit. Gale turns to Katniss and gives her a nod, and she returns the gesture to show her appreciation.

"Well, Soldier Everdeen," Finnick says, and she turns to study his bitter expression. "Lead on."

Katniss smiles gratefully at him, thankful for his support.

She opens up the holo and they consult its maps for the safest route out of the apartment, and after many minutes of debate, decide on leaving through the other side of the building.

They leave Boggs on a nearby couch, deciding that even though there's nothing they can do for him in the way of a burial, they also can't just leave him on the floor of some random Capitol apartment. Katniss wonders who will be the one to find him, and whether or not they will be a Peacekeeper or a Rebel, whether or not they will recognize him as a good friend and great leader, or if they will simply count him among the rest of the casualties. She chooses to hope for the latter, but knows deep down that the possibility of such a thing happening is slim.

The entire block is covered in black goo from the wave, and they are pleasantly surprised to find that it has absorbed other active pods in their favor, many of which were not cataloged in the holo, offering them safe passage for as long as there is goo. They take refuge inside another abandoned apartment building after going a few more blocks, holing up in the living room and barricading themselves in with chairs and mattresses and other pieces of furniture, keeping watch on all of the windows in case any Peacekeepers come their way.

An emergency broadcast appears on the 60" television mounted on the wall, showing aerial footage of the black wave and Squad 451's supposed 'defeat' by the Capitol. They make a pretty good case, too, showing all of them running for cover when the wave crests and covers them from view, seemingly swallowing them up. Anyone watching would believe it, maybe even those back in District 13. But they can't worry about that now.

"So what do we do?" Gale asks, once the perky newswoman has finished talking. "I mean now that we're dead and all."

Johanna scoffs, smirking darkly. "Pfft. Isn't it obvious?" She hefts her gun up, cracking her neck before running her eyes across her teammates. "We kill Snow."

* * *

They take turns keeping watch while Katniss and Finnick scour the apartment for food.

They temporarily take down the barricade they've constructed and search all the rooms and desks and shelves, looking through everything from bathroom cabinets to underwear drawers for something to eat. Katniss is about to give up when Finnick comes strutting in with a handful of canned goods.

"Where did you get that?" She asks suspiciously, almost jealously.

Finnick smirks. "I know places."

"What kind of places?" She asks, wanting him to be more specific. "We've searched every nook and cranny of this place and all_ I _was able to find was a few sticks of gum and a half-eaten piece of jerky."

Finnick holds up a finger. "Not _every_ nook and cranny."

He turns around and walks back into the living room where the others are, and Katniss begrudgingly follows, miffed that he won't just tell her where he found the cans of food. Gale and the others receive Finnick's gifts with much enthusiasm, and though they have no means of heating or cooking it, they all rip open the cans and dine on cold beans and beef stew. A few of them are lucky enough to get a mouthful of canned oranges.

_"Mmm..."_ Homes groans, savoring the tangy oranges. He calls to Finnick with stuffed cheeks. "So how'd you find all this stuff, anyway?"

Katniss glances over at the bronze-haired man as he answers, chewing away at her beef stew.

"Well, when you've been in the Capitol as long as_ I_ have," he says, sounding boastful. "You pick up on things. Namely, where dignified men and women stash their food hoards."

She half-expects Jackson to make a comment about _why_ Finnick has spent so long in the Capitol, to say something about how many apartments he's probably been in that are just like this one and how much of a disgusting, disease-ridden rat he is because of it, but she doesn't. Instead, she keeps her eyes on her can of food and chows away. She guesses that her need to eat overrides any need the woman feels to make ill-meaning remarks. You don't bite the hand that feeds.

"Isn't that kind of weird, though?" Leeg1 says, scraping her spoon against the inside of her can of beans. "I mean, if anyone has more than they need, it's the Capitol. Why would they need to stash food?"

Johanna smirks, and Katniss can tell that she's about to mercilessly share her thoughts. "Hmph. Maybe because they're _so_ greedy and spoiled that they want the last cream puff to themselves? I saw a guy's belt pop once from all the food he ate. It was about as pretty as a pig in lipstick."

Gale and Jackson snort, but Finnick shakes his head. "No. If you knew anything about how things work in the poorer parts of the Capitol, you'd know that it's every man for himself. It's kind of like a more civil, glamorized version of 'dog eat dog'."

Katniss swallows her food, staring down at the thick, bold font on the face of the can in her hand reading 'BEEF STEW'. "So do you think that the war going on forced everyone to dip into their stashes?" She asks.

Finnick nods. "Most definitely. With all the fighting going on in the districts, it's no surprise that everyone is in a panic. We're lucky we even found what we did."

She hums thoughtfully. "Hmm."

They sit in silence, the only sounds being that of eating and scraping utensils, when the television comes on. Snow's face shows up for about four seconds before it is overridden by Coin's, and Katniss immediately pictures Beetee working his magic back in the control room of District 13.

"Hello. My name is Alma Coin, president of District 13. I am here to address the sad and unfortunate fate of Katniss Everdeen and Squad 451, and to give a eulogy for the young woman who lent us her spark, as well as her team members, so that we could come as far as we have."

Coin goes on to say short, positive things about every one of them, saying that Jackson was brave and selfless, that Homes was compassionate and heroic, that Gale was determined and strong-willed, that they all knew the risks and were willing the put their lives on the line for the sake of the war. But she spends the most time on Katniss, on the face of the rebellion and spearhead of impending victory, on the Girl on Fire. Though she says all the right things, Katniss knows it's wrong. It's all wrong. She doesn't mean it. Even if it's true, she doesn't mean it. And how could she? When she had never been anything but painfully civil towards her and she herself had never been overly fond of her to begin with, when it was _Peeta_ she had wanted to rescue in the first place?

Boggs is mentioned, but briefly, and only two sentences are dedicated to his honor. Two measly sentences for the man who risked his life to keep his squad safe, who kept his head clear and remained polite in even the most stressful of situations, who had stuck by Coin from the beginning and never even thought to stray from her command. Two sentences. She might as well have not mentioned him at all.

Katniss grips her fork tight as the gray-haired woman finishes her speech, and she's actually glad to see Snow's feed override hers before she can officially sign off.

"Yes, what a tragedy it is," President Snow remarks slowly, his smile dripping with poison. "That the Great Katniss Everdeen should perish among the streets of the very city that made her."

His voice seems more gravelly than usual, and his face sags with illness. But he's still the same rotten man that she met nearly two years ago, and no amount of sickness will ever get her to feel sympathy for him. She watches, glaring holes into the television as the man who ruined her life stares mercilessly back at her. His mocking smile drops, and the guise of sheep quickly sheds to wolf.

"What you all seem to be forgetting is that Katniss was one of _us_ before she ever became one of _yours_. She never would have been whisked away to District 13 to fight a war she knew nothing about otherwise. And when we recover her body, I will make it a point to show the entire world who she _really_ is; a dead mockingjay who thought she could fly with nothing but the wings _we_ gave her."

A minuscule 'pop' sounds as the feed is cut and the television clicks off, and they are all left to stare at their own reflections in the glossy black screen.

"Well good luck with that," Finnick remarks, not in the least bit fazed as he grins into the tv. "Because you won't _find_ Katniss Everdeen."

He says it like a smug child who has hidden the last piece of candy, and though the situation is truly dire, Katniss and a couple of others chuckle.

"We need to keep moving," Gale says. "If Snow really thinks we're dead, then he's got a search party out there for us right now. The longer they think we're no longer a threat, the better, but that won't last long. We need to act now if we're ever going to get anywhere with this mission."

And just like that, the mirth is sucked away. Gale was right, they did need to move. But their supposed deaths were nearly an hour ago. And if Snow had a search party out there looking for them, which he no doubt did, then a considerable amount of time was already lost.

Leeg1 sits up, looking over everyone with uncertainty. "So what do we do? We can't go outside. They'll catch us if we're on the streets and they'll see us if we're on the roofs. And we can't just sit here and wait for them to figure it out, either."

"Nope," Johanna says, stretching her neck in boredom. "Wouldn't want that."

Jackson looks over at her, brows knit in severe irritation. "So what do _you_ suggest we do? Find some dead Peacekeepers and hope their uniforms are a perfect fit?"

Johanna smirks at her and lifts her eyebrows, obviously considering showing an unhealthy enthusiasm for the idea, but tosses a quick glance at Katniss before ultimately replying, "I'm _suggesting_ that we look to our _new_ leader and see what _she_ has to say. Katniss?"

Everyone looks to her, and though Katniss should be grateful that Johanna is forcing everyone to recognize her position as leader, she's just the opposite. On the one hand, she could come up with a great plan and be silently praised by her teammates for such brilliant thinking as they make their way to Snow's mansion and avoid detection from Peacekeepers. But on the _other_ hand (and this was the one she felt to be more likely) she could stutter and mumble and scramble for something that made even the slightest bit of sense to do, and ultimately crash and burn as her squad experienced yet again just how incompetent she was. Two options, two very different outcomes. The pressure was immense.

Katniss' breath catches in her throat, absolutely tongue-tied as everyone stares at her; Johanna with smugness, Finnick with pride, Gale with hope, Homes with apprehension, Leeg1 with anxiety, and Jackson with contempt. She opens her mouth, feeling around for the holo in her pocket, and narrowly takes it out and turns it on before her teammates can question her. The bluish holograph of the Capitol sprouts out from the holo, and everyone scoots closer as they wait for her to find a solution to their ever-pressing problem.

She doesn't want it to seem like she doesn't know what she's doing, but she really doesn't; there are buildings and streets and pods and pipes and a thousand other things to look at on the map, and not one of them seem to be able to give an answer to her that-

Wait.

Pipes. There were pipes on the map. As in tunnels. The sewer system. Underground. Where no one would be able to _see_ them...

Katniss frantically runs her eyes over the underlying pipes running beneath the streets, seeing that they're linked to the entirety of the Capitol. They went in all directions, spanning every road and alleyway in sight, leading to everywhere. Even to Snow's mansion. She stares, quietly amazed at the simplicity and beauty of it, and a slow smile unknowingly reaches her lips.

Jackson speaks up, clearly not buying that she has a plausible solution. "Yeah, well, _clearly_ you don't have an idea, so-"

"The _sewers_," she says, firmly cutting her off. She's impressed with how strong her voice sounds. "We're heading through the sewers. They won't be able to find us and by the time that they do, we'll be half-way to Snow's mansion. Even if they figure out which way we've gone, there's so many different pathways that they'll never be able to catch up. We're going through the sewers."

"Way to go _Katniss_!" Finnick cheers, clapping her on the shoulder and giving her an admiring shake.

Katniss smiles in relief as Gale and the others join in, finding that she doesn't care much when Jackson refuses to share in their enthusiasm.

The sewers.

They were going through the sewers.

And even though it's the perfect solution to their problems, she can't shake the feeling of certain doom being just around the corner.

* * *

**A/N: So? What'd you think? Thoughts, please! Whether they be positive or negative, good or bad, long or short. I'm in this for the long haul :3**

**'Til next time!**


	27. Pt IV: Twister to Tornado

**A/N: 11/29/2015 I am SO sorry for taking so long to get back with you guys. Really. Every new review asking me to update nearly tore me apart :( But I'm back now, so you can have your fix :) I saw Mockingjay Pt 2 on the 19th, so that's partly why I didn't update sooner. The other part is because of Thanksgiving and Black Friday and Christmas and all that. And writer's block. Speaking of which, BIG thanks once again to elfielovesbooks. I don't think this chapter would have turned out half as good as it is without her help :)**

**Thank you to Manaliac, Flames Of Sage, ilookhotinblack, ColMikeFuser, Midwich Cuckoo, A Huge Fan, Keeper, StoriesOfMyLife96, Finnickforeva, and all the Guests for reviewing :)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: 27 mins or less.**

**if you're slow: 47 mins or less.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-seven: Twister to Tornado ~

* * *

The sewers prove to be quite the adversary, even with the help of the holo.

They have to turn around and go back several times, and though it's tedious, it definitely beats the alternative of heading to the surface and taking their chances with the pods and Peacekeepers. Katniss feels somewhat embarrassed that she can't quite read the holo correctly, and though anyone else could easily make the same mistakes that she does when choosing which way to go through the tunnels, she knows that the more sour members of her squad – Jackson, Homes, Leeg1 – hardly see it that way. As far as they're concerned, she's only in charge because they respected Boggs. Nothing more. And certainly nothing less.

They walk for a good six hours, occasionally having to turn around and take another route as they slowly make their way towards Snow's mansion. They come across a pod every now and then, but they are easily disabled or avoided and everyone silently agrees that it's far more preferable to the countless dangers on the surface. Katniss knows that the President is fully aware of their missing bodies from the black wave by now, and she tries to make as little mistakes as possible with the holo as they trudge through the endless sewage of the Capitol. They're running out of time as it is, and it could be as little as a matter of minutes before their best laid plans came undone.

"There's a maintenance room up ahead," Jackson calls behind her. "Let's stop there and rest for a bit."

Katniss turns on her, irritation flaring. "We can't afford it. If we stop now, then there's a chance that we won't be able to keep going."

"And what do you think's going to happen if we _don't?_" The older woman challenges. "If we don't get our rest, then we might as well give up all the same. Do you really think we're going to be able to do anything if we're all exhausted to the point we can barely stand?"

Katniss' lips angrily tremble, wanting to press forward but knowing that Jackson is right; if they didn't rest now, then they might as well be handing themselves over to Snow right this second. Though she wants to express her concerns about the horrible, creeping feeling of death that she's had for the past few hours, she knows that her wariness will fall on deaf ears; half of her team already didn't like her, and the other half preferred dealing with facts rather than feelings. There was no sense in warning them about a personal hunch she had, and even less sense in wearing themselves out just so they could reach their destination faster. She decides to relent, albeit reluctantly, and chooses to ignore what her gut is telling her.

"...Okay." She says, nodding and closing up the holo. "We'll rest there for a bit. But we can't stay long; Snow's got to know by now that we're still alive, and we need to keep moving if we want to stay ahead of the Peacekeepers."

Her squad nods gratefully, and they all file into the small maintenance room for a much needed rest. Katniss herself doesn't feel the exhaustion until she sits down; she leans against the cold cement walls and slides down to the metal grating of the floors, and immediately she's overcome with heavy eyelids and sore sides and aching feet.

She leans her head against the corner of the wall, and she's vaguely aware of Finnick resting his own against her shoulder as they settle in for some shut-eye.

She doesn't mean to, she swears she doesn't, but within minutes she's closing her eyes and letting sleep overtake her. The last thing she sees before slipping out of consciousness is Gale's serene expression as he sits across from her with his eyes closed, and she silently vows to get them through this. They would get out of these tunnels, make it to Snow's mansion, and end this war. They had to.

And if they didn't, if all else failed and she was the only one left standing, she would take it upon herself to rid the world of that horrible man.

* * *

She awakes with a start some time later, jolting up and searching the room for signs of disturbance.

She can't place it exactly, but there's a definite feeling of danger in the air, coursing through her veins and setting her on immediate alert, making her limbs go rigid and her breathing still. She silently scans the room, looking for any indication that they're not alone, slowly moving her arm towards her hip so she can grip the pistol in her side holster in case anything actually _is_ wrong.

Finnick's sleeping head rests loosely on her left shoulder, and the pressure of it is strangely comforting as she reminds herself that she's not completely alone in her fear; there are others to help her if something should happen. Finally gathering her courage, she gets up and gently sets Finnick against the corner she had previously been occupying, carefully stepping around the sprawled limbs of the others as she makes her way toward the maintenance door, their only exit if something goes wrong.

She steps outside, looking out into the blackness, searching even though she doesn't know what for.

The air is electrified, the atmosphere reminding her of the short moment of calm during a thunderstorm. Right before being struck by lightning. She quickly abandons her attempts at using her sense of sight to identify the source of her uneasiness, and resorts to using another. She listens.

Water. Pipes. Dripping. Echoes. Nothing out of the ordinary.

She's about to turn in and go back to sleep, when something catches her attention.

It's faint, rolling through the thick stench of sewage and drifting into her ear, a most unwelcome feeling in the midst of her team's current situation; a sound. A hiss. A voice. A _name_.

"_Katniiiiiiissssss..._"

She gasps and draws back, instinctively backing towards the door leading to the others. Maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe she was just tired and hallucinating from all the lack of sleep. Yes. That had to be it. It had to.

"_Katniiisssssssss..._"

_No,_ she thinks. _Definitely not her imagination._

She turns her head and inclines her ear towards the sound once more, feeling the need to confirm what she's already heard twice for no other reason than simple disbelief.

…

…

…

"_Kaaaatniiiiissssssssss..."_

A quiet shriek escapes her lips, terror gripping her heart and rooting her to the spot as the involuntary sound echoes out back to the hissing voice.

She swallows, eyelids drawn back as far as they will go as she stares helplessly into the darkness, feeling that whatever it is that's making that noise will come to get her at any moment. It will snatch her away, eat her alive, and no one will ever know what happened to her. This will be her end.

"No..." she whispers, images of Prim and Boggs and every other person who has put their trust in her flashing through her mind.

This couldn't be the end. She wouldn't let it be. She still had a job to do. She still had to kill Snow. She had to put all of her anger and hatred and pain into her last remaining arrow and drive it through his heart. She had promised. And what good would she be if she couldn't keep her promises?

Katniss breaks free from the mental hold she has on herself, slipping back into the maintenance room and shutting the heavy metal door. The sound wakes up Jackson and Gale, and they quickly register the look of panic in her eyes as she stands with her back against the door. Bracing herself. Preparing for imminent danger.

"...Run." She whispers, and they leap to their feet and wake the others.

"What is it?" Jackson asks, stepping past the other soldiers to stand in front of her, her gun at the ready.

"Mutts," she answers automatically, and already she can feel her stomach churning with sickness. "Coming up the tunnel. We need to go."

Jackson turns around to face the others, looking over them to make sure they're ready to move. "Okay. We'll exit the maintenance room and start moving in single-file. I'll guard the rear. Leeg, you're with me. The rest of you, follow Everdeen."

Though Katniss is miffed at her blatant disregard for the official chain of command, she can't argue that they're sound orders. There's danger coming and she's not in a proper state of mind right now, and besides that, she's not in the mood to argue over something so petty.

They open the door and she heads out first, Gale and Johanna following after her. Homes, Finnick, Leeg1 and Jackson complete the line behind her, and they move as quickly and quietly as possible, trying their best to navigate the sewers without stopping too long to look over the holo.

The hissing gets considerably louder as they go along, and she knows that they're catching up. She can't even begin to guess how close they were before when she first heard them, but they're definitely gaining on them much faster than their squad is moving now. And without any spare time to look at the layout of the tunnels, she is going almost completely by memory.

_It'll be okay,_ she tells herself. _Just a few more turns and we'll be out of here before we know it._

They turn a corner and are met with a fork in the tunnel, and Katniss instinctively veers the team to the right. They haven't gone ten yards down their chosen path when Jackson stops them short.

"Stop." She orders, and everyone freezes.

"What is it?" Leeg1 asks, making sure to keep her voice low.

"I don't hear anything," She replies in a whisper, and they listen.

The following seconds of utter silence are more unsettling than the hissing they'd been hearing for the past hour, and Katniss has to force herself to stay planted in her spot as her entire body screams at her to run. Even the normal sounds of the sewer seem to have gone quiet. And _that_ doesn't sit well with her at all.

"Hold on," Leeg1 says, letting her gun hang from its strap. "I have a flashlight."

She digs through her vest and fishes out a small light, the 'click' needed to turn it on sounding volumes louder than it really is, and hands it to Jackson. The older woman takes it and slowly moves it across the tunnel behind them, everyone holding their breath as they wait for something – anything – to catch the light. The narrow space is illuminated bit by bit, and they all breathe a sigh of relief when they see that there's nothing there.

Jackson lowers the light. "Alright. Let's get moving. Maybe they've stopped at the maintenance room because of our scent. Might buy us just enough time to get out of here."

They turn back around and start to move again, but Gale suddenly puts a hand on Katniss' arm and whispers, "Wait!"

Before she can ask what's wrong, he turns, aiming his crossbow and yelling, "GET DOWN!" before pulling the trigger.

The incendiary arrow flies past them and hits a pipe at the end of the tunnel, bursting into flames and sending a plume of heat hurtling toward them. At first she doesn't understand why he's done this, but then the high-pitched shrieks of the mutts reach them, and she knows; they've found her.

She watches as they stumble and fall past each other in the rolling heat of the flames, many dropping to the ground dead from the explosion. But as many as there are perished, there seem to be at least twice as many to take their place.

They all stumble back, and in their panic they nearly topple over each other like dominoes. Katniss falls diagonally against the wall, hurriedly pushing Gale off of her and up into a standing position, panic and terror rising to the point of almost abandoning her team.

"GO!" She screams, and for once, they obey without argument.

They run forward into the blackness, blindly moving as Gale sparingly shoots another incendiary arrow in order to light their way. She can see the end of the tunnel and the larger area it leads into, and Katniss frantically searches for an escape. There are three other tunnels to take their chances in, a staircase leading to a metal walkway hanging from the ceiling, and-

"A ladder!" She shouts, relief and hope boosting her legs.

"Go!" Gale shouts, shooting another arrow into the sea of mutts.

Katniss runs for the staircase, not bothering to wait for the others as she steps out of the tunnel and into the dark, rusted room. She falls waist-deep in green bacteria-filled water, but she doesn't let it stop her as she wades through it, willing herself to move forward and push everything else out of her mind. She hears another explosion and feels another plume of heat roll up the back of her neck, and she knows that Gale has used his last arrow.

She's almost grabbed hold of the staircase railing when something suddenly crashes into her and she's shoved underwater. She closes her eyes just as she goes under, and she's all too aware of the claws ripping into the back of her vest, of the teeth trying to tear out her spine. She struggles under the mutt's grip, losing a precious bubble of air in her panic. Her lungs are about to burst open when the horrible creature on top of her goes limp, and she uses her last burst of strength to roll it off of her and come to the surface.

She gasps for air, hair slick with sewage and eyes blurred with tiny water droplets as they roll off her lashes.

She's just refocused her vision when Johanna marches up and yanks her ax out of the mutt's back, flicking it to get off the excess blood. She gives her a nod before going to help the others, and Katniss quickly scrambles up and braces herself against the staircase to get her bearings.

She stares out at the chaos happening around her, and everywhere she looks there are mutts; Jackson and Gale are fighting them off in a corner, Leeg1 is pulling a dead one off of Homes, Johanna and Finnick are slaying them on the other side of the room like some kind of super duo, and dozens of them are pouring through the fire from Gale's arrow to get to them. Get to her.

She shakes herself free of her trance and raises the gun strapped over her shoulder, aiming at the first mutt she sees.

She closes her eyes and pulls the trigger- _click_ – but nothing happens. She opens her eyes, glancing down at the gun and seeing that it's jammed from all the sewer water. Grunting, she tosses it aside, pulling her bow off her shoulder and reaching back to grab an arrow- only to find that her sheath has been torn off her back.

She gasps and widens her eyes as the mutt lunges at her, and she's just barely able to dodge the teeth and claws that are aimed at her face and throat. She throws herself to the right, diving back under the water to try and find her sheath. She blindly feels around the algae-covered floor, hoping that she'll be able to find it before the mutt comes after her again.

Her fingers just graze the tip of an arrow before she's dragged backwards by the mutt, its clawed hand wrapping mercilessly around her ankle.

She tries to sit up but it shoves her back down, intent on keeping her below the water. She desperately reaches up towards her sheath, blindly trying to snag the strap with her finger, but it's no use. Claws scratch at her face and teeth gnaw away at the many protective layers of her vest, and she tries not to panic at the thought of just barely being alive thanks to her gear.

She tries reaching for the sheath again, stretching as far as she possibly can in an act of desperation as her mind boils down to the primal need for survival, and, as if by some kind of miracle, the sheath is shoved toward her and she's able to pull out a single arrow.

She doesn't know if it's because of the current generated from all the movement, the mutts sloshing about, or the boot of one of her teammates unknowingly pushing it towards her, but she doesn't give it much thought as she grips the arrow as tightly as she can and puts it to use; the mutt's fingers are just beginning to pierce her neck when she blindly stabs it in the head (or what she assumes is the head). The creature lets out a garbled yelp of pain, but otherwise keeps tearing away at her armor. Determined, she pulls it out and stabs it again in roughly the same spot, repeating the action with more force each time until it either stops trying to eat her or dies.

All of her splashing must have caught someone's attention, because she feels a sudden pressure on the mutt's midsection as it presses into her, and then she's being pulled up for air and yanked to her feet.

She tries to blink the droplets from her eyes and focus, but she's only vaguely aware of Finnick pulling his trident out of the dead mutt's back, of a muffled voice yelling for her to get to the ladder, and being shoved in the direction of the staircase.

Katniss climbs the steps as fast as her cramping legs will allow, still gasping for breath as shrieks and gunfire go off all around her. She makes it to the ladder and starts to climb, looking down at the countless ripples of water and the mutts leaping their way through the flames of the tunnel they had gone through, and it's then that she's able to see them clearly; they're just a blurred mesh of sharp teeth and tangled limbs, all violently pushing past one another to get to her. No eyes. Just a pale, fleshy head with grotesque ripples of melted skin where their features should be. They're disgusting humanoid nightmares, shrieking and howling in agony, programmed by the Capitol to hate her with a passion as bottomless as the pits of Hell.

She spots Homes floating face down in a corner, and her heart sinks as she watches all of her teammates desperately fighting to keep from being slaughtered. Johanna and Gale appear below her, urging her to climb.

"What are you _doing_, we have to get out of here!" Johanna shouts.

"But what about _them?!_" She yells back, staring at Jackson and Leeg1 as they shoot a mutt leaping towards Finnick's back.

"They'll be fine, just _go!_"

She obeys, turning her head away and ascending to the surface. She pushes against the heavy metal grate at the top, just barely getting it out of the way so they can crawl out of the hell-hole they're stuck in. Johanna and Gale climb out after her, and Katniss rolls over onto her back, the gear packed onto her vest and torso causing her head to hang down uncomfortably.

She stares up at the night sky, the cold air kissing her face and flushing her cheeks as her chest heaves up and down. She only rests for a moment, though, and a second later she's rolling over on all fours and crawling back to the entrance to the sewers, looking down into the blackness in search of the remainder of their squad.

There's nothing to see, only the rungs of the ladder and the dull flickers of the flames from Gale's dying arrow dancing along the metal floor of the walkway. She hears plenty, though; the mutts shrieking wildly, splashing through the water, Jackson and Leeg1 shouting, gunfire. She wants to do something to help them, to get them out of there, but she knows that she's next to useless from her current position.

A scream rings up through the tunnel and into her ears, agonized and blood-curdling, and she knows that Leeg1 is about to join her sister in the next world over. She sees Finnick flash past the ladder, stabbing at an oncoming mutt with his trident. Her fingers tense around the opening of the tunnel as she stares down, desperately hoping that he and Jackson will make it.

Finnick shouts something to Jackson, and she yells back for him to make a run for the surface. She hears the hard thumping of his combat boots against the metal walkway as he runs across it and towards the ladder. Hope and anxiety flood through her as he comes into view, locking eyes with hers for only a second before grabbing hold of the rungs and beginning his climb to the surface. She listens intently to the continual sound of Jackson's gun as she lays down a covering fire for him, and as Finnick climbs higher and higher, she thinks that they may just get out of this after all.

Finnnick's climbing is hindered by his heavy trident, but he doesn't give up as he gets closer to her and farther away from the mutts. He looks up at her as he climbs, and she smiles in relief. The seconds pass and he continues to come closer, and happiness continues to flood her system, overloading her senses to the point of tears. He finally reaches the top, and he's digging his fingers into the pavement of the road and she's helping him up, and in that moment she finally allows herself to believe that everything will be just fine. She opens her mouth to give him words of encouragement, but any happiness she feels is quickly extinguished within the small amount of time it takes her to part her lips.

A mutt appears just below Finnick, and Katniss can only watch in horror as it latches onto him with incredible strength and drags him down. The fear in his eyes is so intense that words fail her. She reaches down for him even though it's no use, and everything after that seems to happen in slow motion.

Finnick's mouth falling open.

Her eyes widening.

The mutt's teeth digging into the back of his vest, shredding through the cloth of his shirt.

His left hand trying to grab hold of one of the rungs as his trident sits on the ground with her, useless.

She sees it all.

Their lives flash before her eyes, and suddenly she's yanked from reality and thrust into a world of rapidly moving images and colors, and she sees everything that they are up to this moment.

Their first gazes at each other in the training room. Their budding romance in the Quell. Their struggle for understanding while they waited for their old loves to be rescued from the Capitol. Their relief when they were able to let everything go and start over. Their fear when it all fell apart.

She sees it all.

But then she sees something else.

Finnick miraculously grabs back onto the ladder and stays there a few yards below her reach, attempting to kick off the horrid creature trying to kill him. Bullets fly through the air and penetrate the mutt's body, digging into its back and legs and arms and head. White-colored blood spurts from the wounds, and the mutt's growls cease to be as it releases Finnick and falls to the floor with a heavy, dead thud.

Jackson comes into view a second later and begins climbing up the ladder after Finnick, using the dead mutt to boost herself up. Katniss grabs onto Finnick the moment he's within touching distance and pulls him out of the sewer, falling backwards onto the concrete.

She rolls forward to help pull Jackson up, but all she's met with is sharp teeth and melted skin as a mutt leaps up and out of the sewer, its claws missing her face by a mere hair's width.

She screams and falls onto her back, and her heart gives the most powerful thump she's ever felt as she realizes this could be her end. Finnick rolls over-top her to protect her from the blow, his arms encircling her as he buries her face in his vest, and all she can think is that this will be the last moment they share together, and it will only be filled with pain. She screws her eyes shut, waiting for the teeth and claws to come down and rip into their flesh-

"ARRGH!"

Johanna's battle cry rings through her ears as she rams Finnick's trident up into the mutt's stomach, pinning it like a trophy as she kneels beside them.

Gale raises his gun and opens fire on the muttation, and Katniss watches as it screeches in agony. The last of Gale's clip is fired and the resounding silence rings in their ears. She stares at the dead mutt, at the dulled teeth and eyeless head, and she is vaguely aware of Finnick's pained, labored breath hitting her neck as she shifts her focus over to Johanna, who is heaving in place as she struggles to uphold the creature's weight on the tip of the trident. She tilts the weapon so that it and the mutt fall sideways to the ground, streaks of white blood streaming down the shining metal rod.

She gently rolls Finnick off of Katniss, and once his weight is off of her, the rattled Mockingjay shakily moves forward to see what has become of Jackson. She crawls over to the sewer entrance and stares down, her heart sinking when she sees the older woman leaning against the ladder with one hand on her leg and the other on her gun, still shooting at the mutts. Her foot is bent at an odd angle, and she quickly assesses that it must be broken. She was probably halfway up the ladder when that mutt pulled her down. Jackson looks up at her as she's reloading and their eyes lock, and she sees a flicker of doomed resolution in the soldier's eyes.

"Blow the tunnel!" she shouts, and Katniss begins to feel sick.

"What?!"

"The holo!" She urges, her words mixed in with the bursts of her rifle. "If you say 'nightlock' three times it'll destroy everything within a ten-foot radius! Use it before the rest of them make it to the surface!"

Katniss bites her lip, fear stopping her from doing any such thing. "...I can't!"

Jackson shoulders her rifle and shoots a mutt, just barely dodging its flying body as she maneuvers around to the other side of the ladder with her injured leg. The burning irritation in her eyes is tangible as she stares up at her.

"Oh, for God's sakes, Everdeen! Be a leader for once in your life and DO something for the good of your team!"

Fumbling around in her pocket, Katniss takes out the holo. She stares at the tiny device, at the small, nearly insignificant thing that will end her teammate's life. Bile rises in her throat and her hands shake, trying desperately to block out the sounds of Jackson's struggling and just do what needs to be done. She doesn't open her mouth for fear of vomiting, and the thought of willingly killing the woman fighting for her life just twenty feet below her was enough to send her spiraling into nightmarish flashbacks of the bottomless pit she'd only just recently pulled herself out of. She closes her eyes and swallows, thinks of Boggs and what he would do-

"Everdeen!" Jackson urges, emptying her clip into another mutt.

Tears fill her eyes and spill down her cheeks, Homes and Leeg1 flashing through her mind-

"_Everdeen!_"

She bites her lip, tries to keep it from trembling-

"EVERDEEN!"

She gasps and opens her eyes, her rigid muscles finally jerking back to life. She grips the holo tight in her hands, holding it up to her face as she opens her mouth to whisper the words that will seal the fate of the woman below.

"_Hurry_ before those things make it up here!" Johanna hisses, the panicking movements of her hands distracting her for a moment.

"Nightlock, nightlock, nightlock!"

The holo beeps and she hurriedly drops it into the sewer, watching as it bounces off one of the ladder rungs on its way down. Gale yanks her to her feet and they run, making it to the other side of the street before the bomb goes off. Flames burst out of the open hole, and they watch from the safety of the sidewalk as the ground surrounding it crumbles and gives way. They can still hear the shrieks of the mutts as they're buried alive, and she sincerely hopes that Jackson and Leeg1 are already dead.

They stand at the edge of the block, taking time to process everything as they stare out at the destruction of the sewers they had occupied just moments ago. It feels like hours before anyone says anything, and just as she would imagine, it's Gale that snaps out of his trance first.

"Come on," he says solemnly, still somewhat out of breath. "We can't stay here on the streets."

No one argues, and they all slowly turn away from the collapsed road and begin their trek to find shelter.

As they distance themselves from the wreckage, Katniss feels a sense of deadly calm wash over her, a sort of unhealthy determination.

She _would_ kill Snow.

Even if she had to burn down this entire city and take herself along with it, she would kill him. The blood on his hands was far too much for any one man to lay claim to, and she planned to relieve him of such a burdensome duty.

She was no longer a Victor, or a Mockingjay, or a War Hero.

She was an Avenger.

And avenge she will.

* * *

They walk for some time, though she can't say how long.

The winter air chills their faces and limbs into numbness, tinting their noses and ears and cheeks pink. Their noses run and their teeth chatter violently due to all of them being wet from the sewer water, and Finnick especially suffers because his uniform has been ripped open from the mutt Jackson had rescued him from. Katniss knows that if they don't find someplace soon they won't survive the night. And that just wouldn't do.

"Hey," Gale says, and she turns to look at him. "That place over there is open. Look, the lights are on."

He points his gun and they all turn to look, their eyes landing on a small shop tucked away from the rest of the block, slightly hidden by the towering apartment buildings surrounding it. Bright colors and various exotic furs hang in the windows, and Katniss can't deny that there's a certain pull it has, a kind of inexplicable draw akin to an animal trap or a lion's den.

Plutarch had explained to her before they left that there were some safe havens near the heart of the Capitol, apartments and such home to spies for the rebellion. But those spots weren't marked on the holo, and he had given most of that information to Boggs. There was still a very high chance that they would knock on that door – on _any_ door – and come face to face with Peacekeepers or Capitol tattletales, or worse; an active pod. And yet still, it was the easiest choice to make for a quick rest stop. Better to silence a single shopkeeper than fight their way through an entire building full of potential enemies.

"Let's try it," she says, and no one objects.

They cautiously walk up to the shop, its bright light a beacon in the surrounding darkness of the block, tossing glances back and forth as they search for any signs of a trap. They reach the door and Katniss knocks, frostbitten knuckles pounding against the glass. She tries to peek inside but it's no use; there are too many furs and clothing racks to make out any signs of human activity.

She reaches for the door handle, intent on just going in and making her team comfortable, when movement catches her eye; there, in the corner, right next to the counter, she sees something slink off to the left, quick and silent. She can't make out what it is – it could be a person, it could be a cat – but she doesn't have time to think about it either as the shop door is suddenly swung open.

Squad 451 takes an anxious step back, shocked at both the presence of the shop owner and their appearance. They take in the striking color of the slit eyes and striped face and flattened nose and long whiskers of the person staring back at them, and all either party can do is stare; they at the woman's freakish appearance, and she at the sight of four rebel icons – three of which are Victors – knocking at her door. She can't imagine either of them expecting such a thing to happen.

"Hey," Johanna says, breaking the silence with her curiosity. "You're Tigris, aren't you? You were a stylist for the Games a while back."

_Tigris, _Katniss thinks. _Tigris..._

She had heard the name before, but she'd never had a face to go with it. She'd overheard many conversations during her stay in the Capitol, from those between stylists and tributes to Victors and dignitaries, so she couldn't say where exactly she'd gotten her information from, but she knew that Tigris had been very popular at one time. Her designs were award-winning works of art (though she'd never had the pleasure of laying eyes on any of them) and at one point everyone wanted something of hers to call their own. She was overly fond of body alterations, however, and Snow had ordered her to be 'put away' from the limelight. She supposed that even in the Capitol, with all its outrageous declarations of beauty and love for the weird and wonderful, there was such a thing as 'too much'.

Tigris scoffs and curls her lip, much like Katniss would imagine a lion to do, and replies in the deepest voice she's ever heard on a woman, "Hmph. That was _before_ Snow decided I wasn't 'pretty' enough for the television."

"You hate him, right?" Katniss asks, taking a chance at playing her emotions in their favor.

Tigris's eyes flash from Johanna's to her own, and she resists the powerful burning effect it has on her skull as she continues.

"You hate Snow too. For putting you here. For ruining your career and lowering you to selling fur underwear on some random street. Well I hate him too. And if you help me, I'll put an end to everything he's done."

Tigris tilts her head, quietly observing her as though to test her mettle. "_You're_ going to kill President Snow?"

Katniss nods. "Yes. I am."

There must be something in her reply that the surgically altered woman likes – maybe it's her dead-serious determination, or maybe it's just the way she says it with such assurance and hatred – because after a few more moments of staring at her, Tigris opens the door the rest of the way and motions for them to come inside.

They hastily comply, trading a world of cold for a spot of warmth in a single heartbeat. Katniss relishes the heated shop with great fervor, as do the rest of her teammates, and once Tigris turns around the 'OPEN' sign to say 'CLOSED' and locks the door, they follow her to the back of the store.

The tiger-woman pushes back several clothing racks before coming to a wall, and they all watch in wonder as she slides back one of the panels and presses a hidden button. A section of the floor below the panel slides up and out, revealing a steep staircase leading into what she can only assume is a cellar.

She turns to Tigris and gives her a grateful nod, truly thankful for her help. "Thank you for helping us. I don't know what we would have done if you weren't there."

Tigris smiles (or at least she thinks she does, all the surgery makes it hard to judge her facial expressions), and gracefully extends an arm to gesture toward the cellar. Johanna and Gale are the first to go down, and Finnick is on his way next when Tigris snags his ripped collar with her long nails and stops him, halting his movements as she looks over his shredded vest and the exposed wounds on his back.

"You'll need new clothes," she says, and Katniss swears she hears a purr somewhere in her voice. "I'll get you some."

Finnick smiles uneasily in gratitude, and Katniss has to force herself not to bristle. Tigris releases him and they continue down the steps, and Katniss doesn't miss the clear smirk on the ex-stylist's face as she disappears from view.

Just as she'd suspected, the room they are stowed away in is indeed a cellar, filled with old clothes, memorabilia, and a few pictures of Tigris standing next to Victors and television hosts, most notably Caesar Flickerman. There's even a photo of her with President Snow.

_That must have been _before _he dragged her name through the mud,_ she thinks.

She finds Gale sitting in a corner while Johanna takes out the first-aid kit from her vest and begins patching him up. It's then that she notices all the harsh bruises and deep cuts all along her friend's face and neck, and suddenly she feels bad for not noticing them earlier. But Gale doesn't seem to be resentful towards her, and so she decides that it's best not to bring it up.

She walks over to where Finnick is situated at, in the corner opposite from Johanna and Gale, and sits against the wall beside him.

She wraps her arms around her knees and looks at his back while he tends to his trident, and she can't help herself from examining the deep scratch marks in his back. The buckles on the left side of his vest have been torn off, the back half of it dangling carelessly at the other end. The thick cloth of his shirt has been sliced clean through, and the entire left side of his back is exposed for all the world to see. She shivers at the thought of him walking all that time in the freezing cold before coming here.

Katniss stares at the ugly things marring his skin, and briefly relives the moment that dirty mutt dug its sewage-covered claws into him while he was climbing the ladder, trying desperately to get away. She furrows her brows in concern and numbly reaches over to touch one of the marks.

She doesn't realize what she's doing until Finnick hisses in pain, and she immediately draws her hand back to give him some relief.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly, blinking rapidly in embarrassment and turning her head away.

"No," he says, lifting his head. "Don't be. It feels good, just...don't press so hard."

Swallowing down her uncertainty, she slowly reaches forward and, once again, rests her hand on the wound on his back. She's careful to keep her touch feather-light, and makes sure to stop her fingertips on the outside of the cuts. His skin is ice-cold, and considering the filthy conditions they were fighting in, it's a wonder his whole back isn't red with inflammation and infection.

_Maybe the cold helped slow it down,_ she thinks, running her eyes over the gashes.

She skims her fingers along the seams of his cuts, and she's sure by the looks of them that if her hands weren't so cold, Finnick wouldn't be so welcoming of her touch.

"You need to get these cleaned," she says, and Finnick hums in approval.

"Mmm. Yeah, probably should take care of that."

She glares at the back of his head. "I'm serious. You were fighting in a _sewer_. These could get infected and you could _die_." She adds in a low voice, "...I thought you'd already died."

Finnick puts down his trident and twists around to look at her, and she can tell that he's trying very hard not to let the pain show on his face as he does so. He stares at her, his eyes greener than ever despite the darkness of the room, and even though no words are said, Katniss knows what he's thinking.

Because she's thinking it too. What if he _had_ died? What would she have done? What would have happened to her if Jackson hadn't shot that mutt off of him and sacrificed herself to let them escape? What would have happened then? Would she have gotten over it? Pressed forward and marched up to Snow's mansion and killed him as planned? Or would she have broken, lost herself in a world of oblivion and ended up in a morphine-induced coma for the rest of her life while the rebellion crumbled and Snow reigned supreme? She truly feared the thought of such an alternate path.

There's no doubt in either of their minds that things could be much different right now, and if it weren't for Homes and Jackson and Leeg1 and their other teammates, they might not be sitting in the basement of Tigris's fur shop staring at each other right now.

Without another thought, Katniss leans forward and plants a gentle, longing kiss on his lips, raising her hand to brush her fingers against his jaw. He responds with more enthusiasm than she would imagine to come from someone so badly injured, but she doesn't complain either; his lips are soft and smooth and welcoming and _warm_, and this may be the last time she ever gets to kiss them again.

Neither of them speak or make any sounds; verbal communication isn't needed. They both know what the other is thinking, and words can only ruin the moment. The kiss is long and heartfelt, and they both try to stay within the happy bubble they've generated for as long as they possibly can before returning to the harsh, cruel world they live in.

Finnick's body tenses and Katniss reluctantly pulls away, not wanting to hurt him any further than she already has.

Though she's sure that he would argue over whether or not she's to blame for his injuries, she also knows that no matter how he or anyone else tries to spin it, it is partially her fault. If she hadn't been so hell-bent on getting to that ladder, hadn't been put in charge of the squad, hadn't agreed to be The Mockingjay, if she had never been _born,_ he might be sitting here without a scratch. Hell, even better; he might be sitting in a fancy mansion of his own right now, getting ready for bed with Annie. But that's not what happened, and none of those scenarios will ever come to be. Not now, anyway. But if she had any say in it, she would make sure that not a day went by when Finnick Odair never dreamed of anything better. She would be his everything if she had to.

Finnick slowly opens his eyes, and Katniss smiles; though she'd never had the time for religion during her life in 12 or her time in the Capitol, she doesn't find the idea to be so ridiculous as she continues to stare at the angel of a man before her. And if by some miracle they survived this whole ordeal, she would never again question whether there was a Greater force at work.

"I thought I'd lost you," she whispers, sighing through her nose as she lovingly runs the tips of her fingers through his hair.

He smiles and blinks slowly, and she can tell that he's tired. "But you didn't."

She leans forward and kisses him again, and as soon as they break apart, Tigris is descending the stairs to their hiding place with a medical kit and a change of clothes for Finnick.

The stylist kneels down in front of him and Katniss reluctantly backs away, letting her clean his wounds and patch him up.

She works swiftly and diligently, and though Katniss finds it odd that she would know how to administer first-aid, she's not surprised in the least that she's so skilled with a needle and thread. A few minutes of silent observation pass and Finnick is stitched up and good as new (well, almost) and after Tigris has tended to the tiny cuts and scrapes on her own face (which in all honesty, she had completely forgotten about) she's all too happy to have him leaning close and in her arms again.

They sit together in the corner of the cellar, her back against the wall and his against her chest as she holds him close. His wounds were still plenty sensitive and vulnerable to sharp pressure, so she'd shed her military vest and let him sleep on the softer, more yielding material of her shirt. His head rests on her right collarbone, the tendrils of his hair somehow unaffected by their time in the sewers, and she discreetly inhales the scent pooling right below her nose. Her senses are flooded with a pleasant, masculine smell – similar to cologne but more natural – and she hides her smile in his hair to conceal her happiness from the others. She wonders if this is the kind of contentment Peeta felt when he was still in love with her.

She looks up at Gale and Johanna, her eyes briefly passing over the sleeping woman on the other end of the room before landing on those of her friend. Gale is the only other person awake besides herself, his sleepy eyes blinking tiredly at her as he slumps against the wall, his head resting uncomfortably in the corner. They stare at each other for a while, wordlessly observing, and Katniss suddenly remembers something she'd been wanting to tell him since leaving District 13.

"Thank you," she says, voice scratchy from disuse.

Gale blinks, surprised at the break in silence. "What for?"

"For accepting my decision." She replies, too embarrassed to elaborate.

It takes him a minute to understand what exactly she means, but one glance at Finnick and everything clicks.

"Oh..." he says, sounding somewhat uncomfortable. "Well...you're welcome. I can't imagine you choosing anyone else, to be honest, so I'm glad you made the right choice."

He closes his mouth and acts like he's done with his speech, but she knows this is far from the truth. She patiently waits for him to become fed up with his own thoughts, and mentally applauds herself when she times his outburst just right.

"You know I just want you to be happy," he begins, and she successfully keeps a smile from creeping onto her face. "You know that. I told you myself. So when this is all over, and we're both still alive at the end of this thing, don't feel like you owe me anything, okay? Because no matter how sad or disappointed I may seem, I'll get over it. I'll heal. Just like Peeta did. So when it's years down the road and you've got kids with Finnick and you're sitting in your living room thinking about your life, don't feel sorry for me. Because wherever I am at that point, whatever I'm doing – whether it's out hunting with you or with a family of my own - I'm happy. And I want you to be happy, too."

She blushes at the thought of her and Finnick being settled down with children years down the road, but in the long run she knows he's just thinking logically. With relationships came love, and with love eventually came children. Though she can't imagine herself with Finnick in such a way at this point, she doesn't deny that such a time may very well come in the far future.

She decides to take her time answering him, the reason being that Gale, though direct and straightforward with his _thoughts_, has never been one to share his innermost _feelings_ in such great detail, least of all with her. She doesn't want to spoil the moment.

"...You'll always be my friend, Gale," she says finally, feeling the need to console him. "Always. No matter what happens. And if we _do_ survive this, and it's years later and you're next door teaching your son how to hunt and I'm sitting in my living room thinking about my life, I promise that I won't think of you and wonder what could have been."

He smiles and nods, and she does the same.

No more words are said, and the two quickly fall asleep, the sounds of Tigris padding across the floorboards above their heads the most comforting sound they've heard in days.

* * *

**A/N: You actually thought I was gonna kill Finnick, didn't you? ;)**

**Anyway, thanks for sticking with me this far, especially since I haven't updated in, what, almost a month? No promises for when the next chapter will be, but hopefully before the year is over. I absolutely love this story, and if I'm lucky, I'll be able to get it done next month!**

**Don't hesitate to share your thoughts in a review, whether they be good or bad!**

**'Til next time!**


	28. Pt IV: Tornado to Hurricane

**A/N: 01/06/2016 I told myself I was gonna update this before the new year. _That_ clearly didn't happen. I thought I was half way done with it during the last week of December and that it would be 'easy' to hurry up and get finished, but I quickly realized how much more needed to be done to it. It's kinda funny when I think about it. Not to you guys, of course. But to me. Haha.**

**Thank you VERY much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (gosh, I hope I'm not missing anyone), including MetallicMedallion (oh yeah it's perfectly normal. It just means you're a fast reader ;D) Guest (*GASP* How DARE you even THINK that I would give up on this story! I am seeing this thing through to the very end, I assure you!) Greek Geek at Heart (haha please don't kill me), DanteCreativity, Guest, KKgirlliz, Romanticlove93, Guest, TheConjuringMind, Mrs. Marple Poirot, Guest, bechloemockingjay-stan5ever, Mystery of the Night, A Huge Fan, ilookhotinblack, Guest (you're welcome!), aj344, StoriesOfMyLife96, Guest, Live4theMusic (thanks for pointing out those mistakes in the last chapter, I fixed 'em!), Finnickislife, Keeper, XenaTheDog, and Manaliac. You da best. :)))**

**The BIGGEST thank you EVER goes to elfielovesbooks, without whom you wouldn't be reading this chapter right now. Her great advice and lovely insight into the minds of the characters really helped me out here :)**

**Reading Time:**

**if you're fast: around 24 mins.**

**if you're slow: around 41 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-eight: Tornado to Hurricane~

* * *

When they awake the next morning, Tigris is carrying a tray full of food and freshly-pressed clothes down the steep staircase of the cellar, the light streaming in behind her being the only signs of daylight.

Katniss feels achy but rested, and she tiredly yawns herself awake as Gale and Johanna stretch their overworked limbs towards the breakfast Tigris has prepared for them. The ex-stylist sets the tray and clothing down on an old, dusty table in the far corner of the room, tucked away with the rest of her paraphernalia, and goes about checking on their wounds and stitches, starting with Gale.

Katniss feels a weight on her chest as she breathes in, and as she looks down she finally remembers Finnick. He's fast asleep against her, having not moved an inch from where she left him the night before, and she smiles sleepily down at the top of his head and kisses his hair. Tigris comes over and nudges him and he finally stirs himself awake, and though Katniss would have preferred to let him rest, she knows that they're not completely safe here and that they need to keep moving if they're ever going to reach Snow's mansion. If they stopped to rest for even a second longer than absolutely necessary, they may never complete their mission.

Finnick reluctantly rolls forward and sits up, and Katniss immediately misses the warmth. He stretches his back for just a second before the pain stabs him and he remembers his wounds, and she stretches out an arm and lays a gentle hand on his spine, reminding him not to push himself. He turns his head to glance back at her and nods, silently giving his appreciation for her concern, and she proceeds to move out of the way and let Tigris inspect his stitches to make sure his wounds aren't infected.

Once she has decided all is well, the cat-woman drags the table of food and clothing over to the middle of the room and lets them eat, moving to keep watch at the top of the stairs while they gorge themselves on instant potatoes and sparkling water. Katniss almost expects to see a tail swishing back and forth beneath her robes.

"President Snow has ordered all Capitol citizens and shop owners to house refugees from the outer rings of the city," the striped woman says once they've all gotten a mouthful of food. "Even with this hiding place, it's not safe for you to stay here anymore."

Her eyes slink over to Katniss', gleaming as though curious as to how she'll handle the situation, and the young Mockingjay clears away any remnants of tiredness to get her brain working at full capacity.

"...Okay, then. I guess we'll have to leave as soon as we're done eating."

"That won't work," Tigris says, crossing her arms and lolling her head lazily to the side. "The broadcast was early this morning. The refugees have been passing by all day. _Luckily_, none of them have dared to ask _me_ for shelter, but I blame that on your typical Capitol greed; Snow told them he was willing to take in a number of refugees into his own home, so I've no doubt that's where they're all headed first."

Katniss pauses in her chewing, trying to think.

Hmm...well, if the refugees were already swarming towards Snow's mansion, then there was absolutely _no way_ they would be able to just slip out of Tigris's shop and expect to reach their destination undetected. They wouldn't make it two feet before someone recognized them. She supposes that they _could_ wait until all of the refugees passed, but that could be days. They didn't have days. The rooftops were a no-go, too, as Snow would most definitely have Peacekeepers and drones and everything else under the sun keeping a bird's-eye-view on the streets, safe-guarding his home and ensuring his own survival. And though they could chance it, she highly doubted that anyone was up to trying the sewers again.

She exhales, frustrated with their lack of options.

She glances around the room, hoping to find an answer in the walls or floor or one of her teammates, or the pile of clothes hanging on the rack in the corner-

_That's it!_ a voice in the back of her head shouts. _The clothes! We can use the clothes to get us out of here!_

Swallowing down her instant potatoes, Katniss voices her idea. "What about the clothes?"

Her teammates look at her with puzzled faces, but Tigris smirks knowingly, having already caught on.

"You mean the ones on the rack over there?" She asks. "The ones that haven't seen daylight in _ages_ and probably never will?"

"Well, yes," she answers, trying to explain. "But I mean this entire store. It's a clothing shop, right? So what if we just disguised ourselves to blend in with the rest of the refugees? All of the pods leading up to Snow's mansion should be deactivated because of the crowd, so as long as we stick with them we'd have nothing to worry about. We wouldn't have to lift a finger; they'd _let_ us in."

Everyone looks down in thought, considering her idea, and just as she would expect, Johanna is the first to find a hole in her plan.

"Um, no offense, Brainless, but unless there's some plastic surgeon next door that the rest of us don't know about, a change of clothes isn't exactly going to do the trick."

"No," Tirgis agrees, her mouth stretching into a wide, feline-like smile. "But a makeover will."

Gale chokes on his food, sputtering water and potatoes. "_Excuse_ me?!"

Tigris huffs, miffed at his outright refusal. "I happen to be in possession of some of the _finest_ wigs and makeup the Capitol has to offer. And once I'm done with you, _no_ one will be able to recognize your faces."

"Oh, joy," Johanna drawls. "I get to be 'pretty' again."

Katniss ignores her, instead looking to Gale and Finnick. "So? What do you think?"

Finnick shrugs, wincing when his shoulders stretch his stitches. "No complaints here. Well, maybe a _few_, but I'm game."

She gives a slight smile and turns to Gale. "Gale?"

The young man in question sighs and widens his eyes, clearly not onboard with her idea.

"You know how much I hate the Capitol," he says, and she nods. "All their _ridiculous_ clothes and _overstuffed_ bellies and _cush_ lifestyles..." he takes a moment to calm himself down. "_But_...if it helps us take down Snow...then I'm in. Do what you have to do. Just, please-" he looks pleadingly at Tigris. "-no glitter."

She grins, nice and wide. "Deal."

Katniss smiles, exhaling in relief that everyone is in agreeance. "Alright, then. It's a plan."

"I'll bring something down for each of you," Tigris says, and she saunters up the stairs before anyone can say another word.

Katniss dares to say the woman was excited at the opportunity to be a stylist again, but of course, she keeps such thoughts to herself.

She and her squad continue to dine on their breakfast of water and potatoes, keeping themselves occupied with strategy plans and dumb jokes until Tigris returned.

* * *

It takes a little over an hour, but Tigris is able to completely transform them.

Katniss had been a little uneasy at first, afraid of the precious time they would lose, but in reality she was amazed that it didn't take the woman _six_ hours to do them all up; she truly was a talented stylist, working with nothing more than what she had on hand (and in the darkness of a _cellar_, no less), and she wasn't sure if Cinna himself could have done any better.

She stares at her reflection in a nearby mirror, inspecting Tigris's work.

She looks over the short pastel-pink wig, the pale white of her face, the electric-blue eye shadow, the artificial gaunt in her cheeks. She looks like Effie's stepchild. She couldn't deny, though, Tigris had done a great job; _she_ didn't even recognize herself. There was no way anyone else would.

She glances over the reflection of her shoulder, movement catching her eye.

Johanna walks up beside her, a ready sneer on her face as she inspects the stylist's handiwork along with her in the mirror.

"Ugh," she says, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "_Look_ at me, I look like some...Capitol harlot. No offense, Finnick."

"None taken," he calls, adjusting the collar of his shirt as Tigris fixes him up.

Katniss briefly studies Johanna's reflection – at the blacker-than-black eyeliner, the dreadlock hair extensions that drape in front of her shoulders, the blood-red lipstick and rosy cheeks – and tries not to laugh. She bites her lip and tries to offer some form of comfort.

"Well, think of it this way: everyone's so terrified and hell-bent on getting to Snow's mansion that you won't have to worry about anyone asking for your services."

The hot-tempered woman elbows her in the gut. "Oh, shut _up_."

Katniss laughs despite the lack of air in her lungs, and Johanna can only cross her arms and stomp her foot like a young child.

"Ladies! Make way, please!"

A pair of hands gently pry them apart to make room for another person, and both girls go silent as they catch sight of the reflection that greets them in the mirror.

Finnick stands between them with a broad smile, feigning pride at the way he looks, and both Katniss and Johanna can only stare with loose jaws at what Tigris has done to him.

Glittering silver lines his eyes, sweeping upwards into a cat-like shape, and his cheekbones are ridiculously contoured with makeup that brings a severe gaunt to the rest of his face. His mouth glistens with pale lip gloss, and the long, blond wig he's wearing only tops it all off. But as much as she hates to say it, as much as she wants to make fun of him, he actually pulls it off.

"_Geez_, Finnick," Johanna says, brows furrowing in jealousy. "You even make dumb disguises look good...it's _disgusting_..."

Finnick shifts his smile into a smirk, dramatically posing with his chin held high and his hands on his hips. "Yeah. I know."

Johanna makes a disgusted sound and slaps him on the arm, and Katniss has to suppress a snort of laughter.

"Okay," Tigris calls. "He's finished."

They all turn to face the last member of their team (and by far, the most difficult for Tigris to work with) and the entire room silences.

Gale, who had been the most reluctant and therefore the last to be 'dolled up', as Johanna had put it, steps forward with his blue wig and black eyeshadow, his lipstick-clad mouth drawn down into an unamused frown. It's sad for her to say, but his sullen expression only made him look even funnier.

Finnick opens his mouth, a smart comment ready on his lips-

"_Not_. One. _Word,_" Gale glares.

Katniss purses her lips and Johanna twirls one of her extensions, purposefully looking around the room rather than at the peeved soldier in front of them. Finnick is amazingly able to close his mouth, and the few awkward seconds of silence that follows are short-lived once Tigris calls them back into action.

"Okay, we're done. You just need to put these on and then you can go."

She pulls a few coats off of a nearby rack and hands one to each of them.

"These are designs for long-coats I had planned on dressing my Tributes with before Snow had me thrown out of the limelight," she says, a smudge of bitterness in her voice. "They're made of very thick fabric, so your weapons won't show through."

Katniss takes her coat and feeds her arms through the sleeves, pulling the large hood over top her head and placing her hands into the deep pockets. She notes that her legs are just long enough to keep the material from dragging the ground.

She looks up, mouth open to verbalize her gratefulness for her hospitality, but stops short when she sees Tigris a bit too happily helping Finnick into his coat. She closes her mouth and slowly exhales, taking great care not to let her irritation show through at such a simple action.

She averts her eyes and sees Johanna smirking at her, knowing full well what has her so miffed, and Katniss none-too-gracefully looks away and pretends to shrug it off.

"Thanks," Finnick says, oblivious to the cougar-woman's advances as he adjusts his coat.

"You're welcome," she replies wryly, stepping away to admire her work.

Katniss clears her throat – loudly – even though she doesn't have to. "Thank you," she says, forcing a smile. "For everything."

Tigris says nothing in response, but she thinks she sees her face lift into a genuine – though small - smile.

"We should leave in groups of two," Gale says. "If we leave all at once, people might get suspicious."

She nods. "Right."

Johanna and Finnick begin marching up the stairs, and she hurries to fall in line behind Gale.

"Mockingjay."

She pauses, turning to look once more at the shamed stylist.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," Tigris says, a hint of sarcasm showing through her otherwise sincere tone.

Katniss nods, a way of thanks, and turns to climb up after the others.

* * *

She joins her squad at the front door, gazes with the rest of them at the sea of Capitol citizens trudging unknowingly past them about ten yards away, and takes a moment to mentally prepare herself for what they are about to attempt.

"Finnick and I'll go together," Johanna says, looking at she and Gale. "Better to test the waters with someone we work best with, I think."

Katniss looks at Finnick, and though she knows that he doesn't like the idea of being separated from her either, she also knows that Johanna is right. It would be best, in the long run, if they were paired with people they worked well with. As far as she knew, Finnick and Johanna had always been a team of sorts (that much was apparent in the Quell, and again in the sewers) and she couldn't imagine working better in a life or death situation with anyone but Gale. They were hunting partners, had been their whole lives, and despite the dramatic changes said lives had undergone lately, she couldn't imagine Finnick or anyone else taking that place.

She nods, drawing in the corners of her mouth to hide her dislike of the idea. "Okay. Gale and I will go first."

Johanna nods. "We'll be right behind you."

Gale steps forward to open the door, but Finnick darts a hand out to stop him.

"Wait." He says, and everyone looks at him.

He slowly steps towards Katniss, his coat billowing around him, and it's only when he opens his arms to her that she realizes what his intentions are. Without hesitation, she steps forward, crashing into him without really meaning to, and wraps her arms around him as far as they will go. There's a moment of hesitation when she remembers his wounds, but he refuses to let her pull away. He envelopes her in his arms and buries his face in her artificial hair, and she relishes his protective embrace and comforting breath against her neck.

"Come back to me in one piece," he whispers, lips brushing against her skin.

She doesn't miss the desperation in his voice, or the fear. She realizes that he must be absolutely terrified that he'll lose her out there, that she'll lose herself in her promise to end Snow and his tyrannical reign, and even she can't guarantee that she'll emerge truly victorious in the end. She might break, might crumble under the pressures of war and the heavy burden of being the only one who can put an end to it all, might lose sight of who she is and what she stands for. She could revert back into the damaged, mentally unstable girl she was back in District 13. Only this time, she can't see herself snapping out of it.

"...I'll try." She says, feeling oncoming tears because she can't promise him more.

Finnick pulls away, looking at her with a stern expression. "That's not enough, Katniss. I need to _know_ that you'll be okay out there. Not that you'll 'try'."

Tears fall and her lip begins to tremble, and she hates that she can't just reign it all back in.

"I can't promise you that," she croaks. "Because I don't know what will happen when the time comes."

It was true. She had no idea of knowing fully what would happen when she finally got to kill Snow, what she would do or how she would be afterwards. And though she desperately wants to give Finnick some form of comfort regarding the topic, she doesn't want to lie to him either.

He gently grabs hold of her shoulders, steadying her. "I'm not asking you to know the future. I'm asking you to do _everything_ in your power to keep yourself afloat, to do _whatever_ it takes so that you'll still be the same person you are now when this is all over." He pauses, then adds in a softer tone, "Please."

Her lips tremble with a thousand different sentences, and a few more tears escape her eyes because she's not sure which one to grab onto and give to him. In the end she can only give him one word, one answer, because at the moment, it's all she's good for. He _needs_ an answer. And who is she to deny him such a thing?

She opens her mouth, a single, jittery word on her lips rather than a full sentence because she's afraid of sounding like a weak, dying frog, and gives him the answer they both need to hear.

"...Okay."

He breaks into a relieved smile and kisses her full on the lips, cupping her face and running the pads of his fingers past her wig and up the nape of her neck, and for just a moment, she forgets where they are and what they're supposed to be doing, forgets about wars and tyrants and revolutions and Games. And it's absolutely wonderful.

Johanna unceremoniously coughs and Finnick pulls away, and though Katniss already misses the feeling of being close to him, she also knows that they're wasting precious time.

Gale grabs hold of the doorknob and twists it open, nodding to Johanna and Finnick, and, with one last look at the man she dares to say she loves, Katniss follows after him and disappears into the sea of Capitol strangers.

* * *

Peeta Mellark storms through the halls of District 13, intent on getting to the control room.

It was absolute chaos; people rushing around and shouting orders and shoving past people to get where they needed to go. It was a bit much for him the handle, being so close to so many people, and having only just recently recovered from his hijacking to the point where he was allowed to roam without a guard, he didn't want to screw it up. However, this was a risk he felt he needed to take.

He reaches up and yanks off his tie, wanting nothing more than to take off the itchy suit his newly appointed stylists had forced him into and get back into the less restricting (and far more comfortable) jumpsuit that was uniform around these parts.

For some reason, Coin had thought it was perfectly suitable to yank him away from his morning meal with Annie and start getting him ready for a propo that he was hardly prepared for. He was angry about it to say the least, but the fact that she had given someone else the orders rather than tell him directly herself infuriated him more.

Finally reaching the large set of metal doors, Peeta falls in line behind one of the soldiers authorized to enter and waits as they put in the passcode. Once it's done, he hurries in after them before the large slabs of metal begin to close back up.

He searches the control room, eyes scanning over every uniform and every face until he finds the one he wants among all of those present in the overly occupied space.

It doesn't take him long to spot the grey-haired President – she's situated at the large set of screens on the wall at the other end of the room, pressing buttons and giving out orders – and he wastes no time in stalking over to her and giving her a piece of his mind.

"Coin!" He calls, shouting because it's the only way he'll be heard amidst the ocean of voices echoing throughout the room.

Coin turns her head, a look of surprise clear on her features. "Peeta."

He doesn't waste time with pleasantries, and he doesn't have a problem with getting in her face to tell her so. "You mind telling me why I'm getting ready for a propo to announce our victory over the Capitol when the Rebels are still fighting their way to Snow's mansion? When Katniss and the others are still _out_ there?"

"Katniss and the others are _dead_," Coin replies, none too gentle. "And the sooner you realize that, the better things will be for all of us."

Peeta shakes his head, clenching his jaw. "I think you and I _both_ know that's not true."

Coin stretches an unpleasant smile across her face, as though she knows that she's losing their debate but is unwilling to give up just yet, and leans in close to whisper in his ear.

"The Mockingjay's death has been the _best_ thing to happen for this rebellion," she begins, deadly calm. "The Rebels's efforts to reach Snow have doubled by two hundred percent. Victory at this point is inevitable. And if you refuse to do this propo, telling everyone that we've won and that they can lay their worries to rest, not only are you committing treason, but you are perfectly liable to be tried in court for your crimes right along with the rest of the Capitol prisoners. Is that what you want?"

Peeta leans back, brows furrowed in anger. "Are you _threatening_ me?"

"I'm telling you what your options are," she says simply. "It's completely up to you which one you choose. Though personally, I would choose the one that lets you be with Annie. She's a delicate girl and I can only imagine the stress it would put on her if you were to be sentenced to an execution."

Peeta falls silent, and he and Coin stare dangerously at each other.

Movement catches his eye and he looks behind her at the large screens lining the wall, gaze falling on the camera feed for one of the hangars. People in military uniforms bustle around a lone hovercraft, pushing away carts and fuel tanks and tools as they prepare to give the go-ahead for the pilot. He immediately notices the large empty rack being rolled off to the side, as well as the gleaming silver parachutes that sit inside the flying machine.

Coin notices his confusion, and makes sure not to give him any more time to piece things together.

"Please escort Mr. Mellark back to his cell. I'm afraid that I've misjudged his recovery progress and he needs to be sedated at the soonest opportunity."

She turns away and tends to the control panel for the screens, and Peeta stares at her with disbelief.

He moves forward, ready to try once again to voice his protests.

He doesn't get two steps before two pairs of strong hands wrap around his arms and shoulders, forcing his hands behind his back as they begin hauling him away. He kicks and bucks and flails with all his might, but it's no use; he is going to be taken back to his cell and away from Annie, whether he likes it or not.

"You're no better than Snow!" He screams suddenly, determined to get the last word in. "You're a monster! You hear me?! A monster!"

The doors open and he is finally taken away, and an earie silence ensues once the doors slam shut.

Coin stands at the control panel, staring intently at the set of screens in front of her.

She wasn't the monster. _Snow_ was. _He_ had killed _thousands_ of children, forcing them into a game they had no idea how to play. She was sacrificing a mere few. It was a drop in the bucket compared to the ocean's worth of blood he had spilled. No. _He_ was the _real_ monster.

Movement catches her eye, and she watches on the screen as the hovercraft takes off and leaves its hangar.

"Ma'am?"

Her subordinate's voice snaps her out of her reverie, and Coin opens her mouth to give yet another order. "Use Annie Cresta for the propo. Tell her that Peeta has relapsed and is in need of more treatment, and that the Rebellion is counting on her to ensure our victory."

The young soldier wordlessly salutes her and walks off, not hesitating for a second to carry out his duty.

Coin looks away from the screen with the now empty hangar, and instead focuses on an overhead view of Snow's mansion, zooming in on the courtyard.

Victory was imminent.

It won't be long now.

* * *

The first few minutes they walk, Katniss feels the instinctive need to keep her head down, but Gale reminds her that they can't be recognized, and she eventually relaxes into a relatively laid-back posture.

She tries to stay focused on the task at hand, on making it to Snow's mansion and completing their mission, but she finds that it's almost impossible for her to do. No matter what she does, she can't shake the feeling of moths in her stomach, of awful, flittering things wreaking havoc on her heart and brain.

There was just so much that could go wrong within the next few minutes, or even _seconds_. All it would take was one person – a nosy stranger, a curious child – and the entire Peacekeeper battalion would be on them like a pack of mutts on a Tribute. Granted, Tigris had done an amazing job on making them unrecognizable, but that didn't quell her fears any less. _So_ much could go wrong. She just had to trust that it wouldn't.

Feeling a sudden surge of bile rising to her throat, Katniss takes a breath and decides to think of something else to calm herself down. She wonders how far behind Finnick and Johanna are in the crowd, where they are and whether or not they've been discovered. She thinks of Finnick's last words to her and her own vow to keep it together, mentally, both for herself and for him. She thinks of what will happen when this is all over, where they will go and if he will still want her when the excitement of war fizzles out.

_Stop it, _her mind chastises. _Of course he'll still want you. He loves you. And he wouldn't go through all that trouble to keep you alive and happy if he didn't._

She mentally sighs. Of course her voice of reason was right. Finnick did love her. But there was still that constant fear in the background of their romance that made her wonder if they would truly flourish together or just become obsolete with time the way she and Peeta had. But she would rather live and find out than die and never know, and either way, she sincerely hopes they survive this war.

"Not much farther now," Gale whispers, the hood of his coat inclining towards her as they walk.

She nods, more to assure herself than her friend, and they continue to wade through the sea of people around them, slowly making their way down the street along with everyone else like a steady moving river. There's so many wigs and hats and neon-colored clothing around her that she can't really see ahead, but she's sure that Gale would warn her if something was wrong.

Peacekeepers line the path to Snow's mansion, one standing at attention every six yards along the sidewalk, some moving forward to help refugees and urge them along to safety while others keep an eye out for rebels, and though she's sure that their gazes had swept over them at some point, they hadn't looked twice at either she or Gale.

She looks over to her right at a worried couple whispering hushed comforts to each other, to her left at a little girl staring curiously at her as she's being carried by her mother, and tries to convince herself that, as long as she's hiding behind Tigris's makeup and unused Tribute coat, she's safe.

She grips her bow tighter beneath her draping wardrobe, the action unnoticeable to anyone who might happen to glance at the unusually thick layers she's wearing, and gravitates closer to Gale. If anything were to suddenly go wrong, they would be separated faster than either of them could draw their weapon. It would be best if they stuck as close together as possible.

They walk a few more minutes and there's a moment when the moths in her stomach slowly turn to those of bats, anxiety and fear of being caught sinking their sharp claws into her brain. Suddenly nothing is safe and everything is dangerous, and she's all too aware of the proximity of the Peacekeepers and the little girl's eyes staring at her and the countless moving bodies that threaten to crush her. She begins to feel like she's being suffocated, everyone gradually closing in on her with the intent of swallowing her whole. It only gets worse the longer they walk, and it's only thanks to Gale that she's able to keep herself from hyperventilating and making a scene.

"We're here," Gale whispers. "I can see the gates."

They come to a stop with the rest of the refugees and relief begins to flood her, but it only lasts for a moment. She feels Gale tense beside her, and her small panic attack is only worsens. Fear seizes her limbs and she has to force her mouth to open before she can even ask what's wrong.

"What...what is it?" She asks, tense as a spring as she grips her bow. She can't see her knuckles, but she thinks they must be white.

"Peacekeepers," he says, lifting himself up onto his toes and craning his neck to get a better view. "They're only taking children into the mansion."

She loosens her hold on her weapon. "What?"

He points. "Right over there."

She stands on her toes and tries to see between the countless people in front of her, but it barely helps. The most she can see is the tops of children's heads floating above the crowd, all gravitating towards the same spot; the gates.

_It doesn't make any sense, _She thinks. _Why would they only accept children? Snow said that he would take in_ all_ refugees._

"I guess he's trying to make a show of what a 'great' President he is," Gale mutters, unintentionally answering her thoughts.

Unsatisfied with their current position, Katniss shifts her bow to her other hand and grabs hold of Gale's coat, tugging him forward as she pushes past the whispering couple and the mother whose little girl is being passed along to the gates. Though she's sure he's confused, Gale doesn't object as they move to the front of the crowd, and Katniss is finally able to make sense of things when they break through to the edge of the line.

Peacekeepers line the gates to Snow's mansion, guns at the ready as their comrades step forward to receive the Capitol's children into the heavily-guarded courtyard. It was unbelievable; hundreds of small, tiny bodies crammed together just past the gates, many of them barefoot and improperly clothed for such cold weather. They must have been the ones who were just barely able to escape the Rebels' onslaught.

"My God..." She whispers, thoroughly disturbed. "He's using them as a shield."

Gale barely hears her. "What?"

"Look," she urges, keeping her voice as low as possible. "See how there are more of them towards the entrance to the mansion?"

Gale looks, and she knows that he sees. The sea of children is thicker towards the double-door entrance of Snow's not-so-humble abode, and although one might easily assume that it was right and just to defend the them first rather than the adults, it was easy to tell by their terrible living conditions and the positions of the Peacekeepers that the President's intentions were hardly empathetic. If Snow really wanted to protect the children, he would have brought them straight into his home. Not have them sitting around in freezing-cold weather like vulnerable little ducks.

"You're right," Gale says, cutting himself off when a child is passed between them and taken hold of by a Peacekeeper. "So what do we do? If we can't get in then there's no point. We've come all this way for nothing."

Katniss says nothing, because there's nothing she can say. What _could_ they do? Only children were allowed past those gates. They clearly weren't children, and neither of them possessed the social skills needed to convince the Peacekeepers to let them through. She supposes they could always wipe off their makeup and take off their wigs and reveal themselves, but chances were they would only get shot rather than be taken in to see Snow. What to do...

She opens her mouth and begins to speak, but her voice is swallowed by the shrill sound of screaming and gunfire.

Panic envelopes the whole crowd and Katniss and Gale are shoved to the ground by Peacekeepers, orders to stay down shouted into their ears as they lift their guns and prepare to fight. It's only after she's lying on the concrete next to her friend that she realizes what's happening; the Rebels have finally broken through.

Though she should feel relieved, she feels anything but; the Rebels are aiming for Capitol citizens, and she and Gale fit the bill perfectly. If they weren't dressed so ridiculously, she's sure that they would be fighting alongside them right now, but it's too late to shed their disguises and switch sides without being gunned down by either party. If it became known that they weren't citizens, the Peacekeepers would kill them. If they tried to keep up their guises and run, the _Rebels_ would kill them. The only thing they could do was play dead.

Katniss squeezes her eyes shut and tries to remain calm, telling herself that she'll be just fine as long as she stays down. She feels Gale's hand reach over and grab onto hers, and though she knows it's meant as a form of comfort, she feels as though he's just signed their death warrants. They will both die, and the last thing either of them will remember is holding each other's hand.

Combat boots and bare feet trample her body, one of which is heavy enough to knock the air from her lungs. She coughs and sputters, trying not to panic and let the oxygen back in, when her ears are suddenly overloaded with what is possibly the loudest sound she has ever heard.

A hovercraft swoops by with thunderous force, there one moment and gone the next, and Katniss looks up just in time to see gleaming silver parachutes floating down to the terrified children in the courtyard. Images of her first Games flash through her mind, terrible memories she'd hoped never to relive, and even though she knows what those parachutes mean – medical supplies, food, gifts – there's something in her gut that tells her nothing good will come from them.

A single child stands up and reaches for the closest parachute, the others following suit, and Katniss can only watch as they open their gift-bearing care packages with trembling hands and frostbitten fingers.

The moment seems to go by in slow motion, and she has just enough time to scream, "NO!" before the bombs go off.

It's a chain-reaction. One parachute explodes and then another, until nearly half of the deceptively shiny objects are gone. Screams of alarm and cries of agony sound out all around them, and more boots trample over her as the Peacekeepers rush to open the gates.

Katniss jolts up from her position on the ground, letting go of Gale's hand and tossing her bow as she gets up to help. He calls after her but she doesn't listen; she _needs_ to know if those children are okay, if there are any survivors.

She's slammed against the cold, metal bars of the front gate as people flood into the courtyard, pushing past her and shoving her aside. Her eye socket and cheekbone sting with pain, and she feels frustrated and helpless as she searches the countless faces and still bodies of the children who had been perfectly fine just seconds before. Over half of them are lying dead, and the rest are severely injured.

She brings a hand up to her mouth as tears fill her vision, her sorrow shared by all of the Capitol mothers and fathers who trusted their President with their children's lives, only to have them taken away from them forever.

The prolonged cries of anguish that sound out all around her are swallowing her whole, and she doesn't even know any of the people there. She never knew the Capitol was capable of such empathy and compassion, and it's a cruel irony that they should have their own children brutally murdered instead of those in the districts, yet she can find no possible way to justify the situation so that she doesn't feel horrible. Killing children will always be wrong, and no matter who they belonged to, she will never be able to justify it.

Gale finally finds her amidst the chaos and she's yanked backwards and out of the courtyard, and even though she wants to stay and help the children, she also knows that there is nothing she can really do. She is not a doctor, she is not a parent, and her own grief would only prove to slow things down. She could only get in the way.

She's just begun to wipe her eyes when she catches sight of blonde hair and a slender frame, and though it's sketchy, it's enough to make her go rigid.

_Prim..._ She thinks, watching as the vision before her is swallowed by the crowd rushing into the courtyard.

"Hey!"

She's distracted by the sound of Johanna's voice, and she glances over to see her running towards her, looking both angry and confused.

"What's going on?!" Johanna shouts, standing next to Gale as hundreds of panicked people move around them.

Katniss barely registers that she's spoken, too focused on the empty space beside Johanna.

"Where's Finnick?!" She shouts, panic flooding her senses.

"I don't know!" She shouts back. "He was right behind me and then...nothing!"

Frustration sweeps through her, torn between searching for Finnick and going after Prim. She clenches her eyes shut to block out the noise and better focus.

_Okay, Katniss,_ think, her mind urges. _Wherever Finnick is, he's probably fine. He can take care of himself. He's proved that a hundred times since you've known him. You need to look for Prim. Find_ Prim.

She feels some of the frustration drain away, knowing that although she's worried about Finnick, it's Prim she needs to focus on; if her sister is truly here, she needs to know.

She glances over at the stone wall connected to the left side of the gate and begins to climb despite Gale and Johanna's protests, knowing that she'll be able to better see if she can get a bird's-eye-view. She makes it to the top and looks out at the crowd, at the endless sea of scared people and the Rebels and Peacekeepers rushing in to help the children, and suddenly her eyes lock back onto the blonde hair and thin frame.

Katniss watches as she turns around, and it's then that she sees her face.

The ridged nose, the downward-cast eyes, the gaunt cheeks...it's not Prim.

She sighs in relief. _Good._

She watches as the nameless woman whom she had mistaken to be her sister kneels down to help the children, a medical kit in her hands, and Katniss' breathing suddenly stills. Because she realizes.

Only half of the bombs have gone off.

She screams, calling out to the people below, and the blonde woman looks up, shocked and confused at her outburst, and before either of them can say anything more, the remaining parachutes activate.

She's only able to witness the explosion for a moment, her eyes overcome with incredible light and her cold face heated by the flames for no more than a second before someone grabs hold of her long coat and yanks her down from the wall.

The sound alone is incredible; it breaches her ears and envelopes her senses, and if she'd had more time, she would appreciate the fact that she doesn't have to experience it for very long.

Her head smacks against the pavement, and her world goes black.

* * *

She slowly opens her eyes sometime later, vision blurry.

She gradually registers that she's looking up at a bright, tiled ceiling, and she dully realizes that she must be in a hospital.

She sees her mother to her left, her brow furrowed with worry as she hurriedly hooks up an IV. She tries to turn her head but she can't; her neck is trapped in a brace. She opens her mouth to speak, but that doesn't work either; her face is covered by a breathing device. She attempts to raise her right arm, and it's then that she realizes just how much pain she's in.

Her mother finally notices her conscious state, and quickly moves to stroke her hair and calm her down. "Shh, Katniss, shh...it's okay. Go back to sleep. You'll be okay, just go back to sleep..."

And she does.

* * *

**A/N: SO, there's that. I've already got about a third of the next chapter written in case you're wondering, and the next chapter WILL come sooner than this one did. I _swear_ this to you *raises sword* ( '-')/**

**I would say ''til next time', but I feel like that would just be a stab in the back at this point :P**


	29. Pt IV: Hurricane to Cyclone

**A/N: 2/25/2016 OH. MY. GOSH. I cannot bee-LEEV that I took so long to update. I just, I can't even. I'm not even going to bother giving an estimate for when the next chapter will be out, cuz it's practically pointless. I just...ugh *flips table***

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS! They've really kept me going when I was stuck on a certain part of the chapter, and my thanks includes, but is not limited to, elfielovesbooks, Live4theMusic (thank you for your corrections, I always appreciate them), SesethuTee, Manaliac, Guest, FandomCraze, Jooheika, The Moonstar9, A Huge Fan, Guest, Celestial Titania (shh you'll just have to see what happens to Prim), Dodge1989, bechloemockingjay-stan5ever (glad to hear you're loving the story so much!), dalonewolfff (woah thanks for all the reviews!), Dandelion1712 (thanks for all the reviews!), and Gilshado07.**

**A special thank you once again to elfielovesbooks, without whom I probably would have ended up giving you guys a very OOC chapter.**

**Reading Time: ****If you're fast: 31-42 mins. ****If you're slow: about an hour and 10 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-nine: Hurricane to Cyclone~

* * *

She drifts in and out of consciousness quite often, and the faces that come to see her are so diverse that she doesn't even bother questioning whether or not they're actually there.

Finnick.

Prim.

Gale.

Peeta.

Annie.

Her mother.

Cinna.

Boggs.

Cato.

Jackson.

Her father.

All coming in to check on her, to see how she's doing and to let her know that they're there for her without words, that they forgive her. That they love her. That they _understand_.

Every time she opens her eyes, a new face. Every time she closes them, a short-lived period of peace.

This becomes all she knows for what feels like an eternity.

* * *

When she is finally strong enough to stay awake and sit up on her own, Haymitch is there waiting for her.

He's sitting at the edge of her bed on the right hand side, looking as though he's only just woken up himself – his clothes are wrinkled and his hair is a disheveled mess, and judging by the creases and dents in the sheets by her legs, she guesses that that is where he had spent most of his night - and she's just so happy and touched that he would even _bother_ to stay the night in her room that she doesn't even think to point out how ridiculous he looks.

"Haymitch..." She whispers, voice hoarse with sleep.

"Hey there, Sweetheart," he says, chuckling as he rubs his eyes. "I thought you were _never_ gonna wake up."

She smiles, but only the slightest. "Did you stay here all night?"

He scoffs, pulling back his arms and stretching out his spine. "Pfft. Try the last _three_ nights. I tell ya, you never quite realize just how old you are until you try sleeping on a hospital bed. _Phew_..."

She smiles at his humor but doesn't laugh on account of her tiredness, and she patiently waits for him to pop all of his joints.

"Ughh," he groans, wincing as he rotates his shoulders and cracks his neck. "_So_...you're probably wondering what happened after you blacked out, am I right?"

Katniss looks at attention, surprised that he's bringing it up so soon. "I- I don't...remember much. Just the explosion."

Haymitch nods. "Yeah. The Capitol fell right after the parachutes went off. Apparently even the highest ranking Peacekeepers wouldn't stand for Snow sending out a hovercraft to kill a bunch of helpless kids. They let the Rebels right in. _They_ took over the mansion, and _you_ were taken to intensive care."

"How long have I been out?" She asks.

He tilts his head. "Eh, I'd say...about two weeks? Long enough for Gale to be called away to Two to clean up Peacekeepers and your propo team to be sent away to cover the wreckage of the war in all the other districts."

She quiets, processing that she's been asleep far longer than she'd thought and that her friends are gone.

"I didn't think I was hurt _that_ bad..." She mumbles, and Haymitch smirks.

"Yeah, well...you got a pretty nasty bump on your head to say the least. Personally, I would've just let you sleep it off, but Coin insisted that you be taken to the hospital and watched over twenty-four seven."

She stares at her hospital sheets, silent for some time until everything finally hits her and she's met with a thousand different questions.

"What about Prim?" She asks, suddenly alert. "And Finnick? Johanna? Peeta? Annie? Where's Snow? Is he dead? Have they elected a new President yet? Wha-"

"Woah, now," Haymitch says, brows raised as he motions for her to calm down. "Take it easy! Your sister is _fine_. I've had to shoo her out of here on more than one occasion because you're all she thinks about these days. Johanna's busy giving her doctors a hayday. You'd think Coin would know better than to put _that_ girl in therapy."

She bites her bottom lip, preparing herself. "...And Finnick?"

"He's alive." He smirks, and she lets go of the breath she doesn't know she's holding.

She relishes the relief she feels, and nods down at her bed sheets to assure herself that the hard part is over. "Good."

Haymitch reaches out a hand and rests it on her knee, softening his smirk into what she can only guess is an attempt at a comforting smile. She smiles back, genuine in her appreciation.

"Mockingjay."

She and her Mentor look towards the new voice in the conversation, seeing a surprised Coin standing in the doorway.

"President Coin," Haymitch greets.

Coin barely glances in his direction. "You're awake...good."

There's a moment of awkward silence, and Haymitch quickly decides to make his exit.

"Wwwwell," he starts, looking between she and the President. "_I'm_ gonna take my leave...it's good to see you, Sweetheart."

He smirks and pats her legs, and without further ado, lifts himself off of her hospital bed and exits the room, not quite brushing shoulders with Coin as he does so.

Once they are alone, Katniss feels a dangerous air settle in the room. It's as though she's back in the sewers with the mutants, listening for their growls as she waits just outside the room where her teammates are sleeping. Coin feels it too – she _has_ to, it's too potent to go unnoticed – but doesn't let her expression give anything away. She bets that the President is exceptional at poker.

"I thought you'd like to know that I've saved Snow for you. Just as I promised."

Her tone is pleasant, and she seems to use her opening statement as an excuse to step further into the room. Katniss feels much too vulnerable in her hospital bed.

"He's been sentenced to an execution," she goes on to say. "And though the districts wanted him dead weeks ago, I assured them that their satisfaction would come in the form of the Mockingjay putting an end to him herself."

Katniss stares at her, eyes hardening at the thought of Snow still being alive. "Where is he?"

"Someplace safe," she replies, sidestepping her question as she moves to sit down at her bedside, opposite of where Haymitch was. "Where he won't be killed before it's time."

She falls silent, having nothing more she wants to say to the woman, and Coin takes it upon herself to continue their one-sided conversation for just a little longer.

"I've prepared a room for you and your family in the mansion." _That_ gets her attention. "You'll be pleased to know that your mother and sister have been enjoying the comforts and luxuries that only the Capitol has to offer."

The President smiles at her, but it is thin and stretched, and Katniss has to remember her manners when she thinks of telling her to get out. Coin pats her legs like Haymitch had done moments before, but the action hardly holds the same comforting meaning behind it.

"Get some rest. A doctor will be in to check your wounds and make sure that you're fit to walk on your own. You've got a busy schedule ahead of you."

She gets up from her bed and leaves, and Katniss is grateful.

A doctor comes in a few minutes later just as she had said they would, and the young Mockingjay waits wordlessly to be examined and released so she can finally put down Snow, and, hopefully, lay her demons to rest.

* * *

Coin had not been joking in the slightest when she had told her she would be busy.

As soon as she is released from the hospital, she is put into her Mockingjay costume and brought out onto the terrace of Snow's mansion, where Coin presents her to the world and happily announces that – whether by pure luck or divine providence – their beloved Mockingjay and her team have miraculously survived the black wave thought to have killed them all. Though she hardly appreciates the spotlight, she is well received by the crowd and, ultimately, the rest of the districts.

After it is made known that she is alive, she is finally allowed to see her family. Prim and her mother are indeed living lavishly, but it was to be expected when they were staying in Snow's mansion; the man spared no expense.

"Katniss!" Prim calls out, leaping off of the ridiculously tall mattress she's sitting on to run to her.

"Prim!" Katniss smiles, happiness flooding through her as she wraps her arms around her Little Duck.

"I missed you so much," Prim cries, sadness distorting her voice. "I thought you might never wake up..."

Katniss hugs her tighter, feeling tears prick at her own eyes. "I know, Prim. I know..."

She catches sight of her mother, who has paused folding an article of clothing to stare at the exchange between her daughters, and smiles. Her mother, though surprised, doesn't miss a beat. She smiles back with all the emotion she can muster, and Katniss deeply appreciates the effort. For the first time in years, she feels like they're a family.

She and Prim pull away from each other after a few long moments, and Katniss gently wipes away at her sister's tears.

"When the bomb went off, I thought you were dead," Prim says, unable to keep her voice higher than a whisper. "You just fell off the wall and I couldn't see you, and then Finnick came and-"

Katniss furrows her brows. "Wait, _Finnick?_ Prim, what are you talking about? How could you have seen me if you were in 13?"

Her sister sniffles, trying to stifle her trembling lip. "I was part of a medic team sent to help the injured Rebels in the Capitol. I heard the first explosion and I was on my way to the courtyard when Finnick found me. I told him to let me go but he said you'd never forgive him if he did."

Fresh tears pricked at the older Everdeen's eyes. _Well, he was right about that._

"I don't understand," she says, shaking her head. "The streets were too dangerous for medics to be sent in so soon. You shouldn't have been within five _miles_ of the Capitol. Not without-"

_Without Coin's permission._

Anger blooms inside her, and she has to keep her expression from hardening to that of stone so as not to scare her sister.

_Coin_ had ordered Prim's medic team to be sent out into the field. _She_ was the reason her sister almost died.

_And Finnick's the reason she didn't,_ her conscience reminds her.

Finnick. The day was half over and she hadn't even seen his face. She doesn't know if he's perfectly fine or if he's just barely alive in some random hospital room, alone and isolated from the rest of the world, from her. She needs to see him.

Katniss snaps out of her daze and looks down at Prim, smiling lovingly and tracing the tucked strands of hair behind her ear with her fingertips. "I'm glad you listened to Finnick. But please, _promise_ me that you'll never do something like that again, okay? Even if you're ordered to."

Prim eagerly nods, far too happy to argue. "I promise."

She smiles and leans forward to hug her once again, relief washing over the both of them. "Good. I have to go see Finnick now. Help mom with the laundry, okay?"

Prim smiles and wipes away the last of her tears. "Okay."

Katniss pulls away and, taking one last look at what remained of her family, walks out of the room in search of the man responsible for the happy moment they had just shared.

* * *

She searches and searches, and yet she can't find him anywhere.

She's been roaming the halls for almost an hour now, and her fruitless efforts have built up a healthy amount of frustration that itched to be let loose in some violent form or other.

_This is ridiculous, _she thinks. _It's almost as if Finnick has disappeared off the face of the Earth. He has to be here somewhere! It makes no sense that I can't find him!_

She huffs, ready to scream or hit something to express her anger for not being able to find one man, when someone she recognizes finally comes into view.

"Katniss!" Plutarch calls, pleasantly surprised to see her as he walks towards her down one of the many halls of Snow's mansion.

Katniss sighs, feeling some of her frustration drain away as she stares at the man's happy disposition. "Plutarch. It's nice to see you're still alive."

He laughs. "Ha! _Me_ still alive? What about _you_? You're the one we all thought wasn't gonna make it! If anyone should be congratulated, it's you. Lovely to see you alive and well, Mockingjay."

She cringes, not wanting to be reminded of Coin's nickname for her. "Please don't call me that."

He smiles apologetically. "Right, sorry. So, what's so pressing that you feel the need to search every nook and cranny of Snow's not-so-humble abode? If you don't mind my asking."

She blushes, embarrassed at her own incompetence. "I...I was looking for Finnick. I haven't seen him since I woke up, and..."

She trails off, and the gamemaker nods in understanding, eyes lighting up with helpfulness. "I just saw Finnick, actually. He asked for a room close to the gardens after we took the mansion, and I've been the first person to see him since."

"The gardens?" She asks, brows pinching in confusion. "Why would he want a room there?"

Plutarch smirks knowingly. "I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself. The gardens are back that way."

He turns and points back the way he came, and Katniss follows his finger down the long and intimidating hallway.

"See you around, Katniss."

She's patted on the shoulder before being left alone once again, and she listens to his retreating footsteps as they echo away into nothingness. She stares down the hallway, seeing the large set of glass doors at the very end that shield the mansion from the snow and ice outside. She doesn't know why, but there's something about it that's...ominous. Frightening. Deadly, even. But Finnick is somewhere at the other end of that hall. And she's going to find him.

She takes one step forward and then another, and before she knows it she's in a rhythm that she can't get out of and the hallway is shrinking the more she walks, and suddenly she's reached the end.

She steps towards the first door she sees and knocks, disappointed when there's no answer. She's about to just barge her way in and see if anyone's inside, but something stops her. She doesn't know what possesses her to do so, but she turns around and faces the glass doors, elegantly decorated and beautifully built, and forgets the vacant room altogether.

She rests a hand against the cold glass, nerves chilling to the point of goosebumps rising on her entire arm, and looks outside.

A lavish patio with elaborate designs carved into the tiles sits just outside her reach, decorated with countless frozen plants, many of which she doesn't even recognize. Beyond that, there is a greenhouse, frozen over from the cold to create what looks more like an icebox than a home for flowers and plants, but that isn't what grabs her attention; it is guarded by two soldiers, both of which seem to be dressed from District 8, and she watches as they open the doors to let someone out.

_Finnick, _her mind whispers.

She doesn't even think twice about it. She pushes against the glass doors and runs to him, despite the patio being iced over and her already cold body being protected by nothing more than a thick robe and slippers.

Finnick sees her coming immediately, and his expression changes from distraught to overly joyed within the blink of an eye as he scoops her into his arms the moment she's within reach.

"Katniss! My God, you're awake!"

He hugs her tight and she closes her eyes, smiling and burying her face in his chest. She feels him grin into her hair, and his warm breath is all too welcome in the freezing cold.

She sighs, her breath appearing as fog before her. "Oh, Finnick, I thought-"

The words die on her lips, her smile dropping as quickly as a kick to the gut.

Because that's when the smell hits her.

She pulls away from him, eyes wary and untrusting. "...You smell like roses."

_Like Snow,_ she wants to say, but can't bring herself to.

Finnick's own smile drops, his previous happiness dying down into a resolute stare. "...Oh. Yeah, they're- they're everywhere in there. I almost puked myself."

She glances past him at the greenhouse, at the two soldiers guarding it, and suddenly feels nauseous.

"Why were you in there?" She asks, hating herself for sounding more accusing than curious.

He pauses, and she can tell that he's deciding on whether or not to tell her. When he finally does answer, his voice is low and cautious. "...It's _Snow_. They're keeping him in there. Until the execution."

Her eyes widen, his words hitting her harder than the cold weather biting into her skin. To know that the man responsible for all of her pain and anguish, for all of her tears and hardships, all of the sleepless nights and severed relationships, was just beyond those doors...the hatred she feels is almost enough to warm her freezing body.

She looks him squarely in the eye, trying to keep her voice level. "I want to see him."

He blinks, taken aback. "_What?_"

"I want to see him," she says again, stronger this time. "Take me to him."

Finnick sputters, in disbelief as to what he's just heard. "Katniss, you just got out of the _hospital_. You should be _resting!_ What business do you have going in there now?"

Anger flares within her, and she clenches her fists. "What business do _I_ have going in there? What business do _you_ have going in there? I have just as much a right to see him as you do!"

"Because I needed _closure_, Katniss," he says, trying to explain. "I needed to see him, needed to talk to him one last time and tie up loose ends before it was too late."

"And _I _need the same," she says simply. "So let me see him."

He fixes her with a hard look. "Katniss, it's not the same and you know it."

She exhales hotly, becoming increasingly annoyed at Finnick's need to baby her. "I'm not a _cripple_, Finnick. I can take care of myself."

His jaw tenses and he purses his lips, and she can tell that he's trying incredibly hard not to be cross with her. "I _know_ that. I'm just saying; you just woke up. Snow is gonna be there for a while. You can see him later, you've got plenty of time to rest beforehand."

A part of her knows that he's right – after all, now that she had woken from her miniature coma, Snow would be kept alive for at least another couple of days – but another part, a stronger part, rails against everything he's saying. She had scratched and clawed and fought her way to the heart of the Capitol, to Snow, for one reason and one reason only; to kill the dirty tyrant and end his reign once and for all. And she hasn't even been able to accomplish that. She doesn't care what anyone says, what anyone thinks or speculates; this entire rebellion, this war, had always been between herself and that man.

"He was my _only_ target, Finnick." She says, her hatred finally showing through. "My _only_ reason for going to the Capitol. The _one_ reason that Boggs and Jackson and the rest of our team aren't here with us now."

Finnick bows his head, a look of shame passing over his features. "...I know. But we both know that you're going to be the one to put an end to him, no matter how long you have to wait. _No_ one is going to take that away from you."

She breaks away from his gaze and a beat of silence passes, and he tries once again to convince her to see his side of things.

"I'm not saying you don't deserve answers, that you shouldn't get the opportunity to give that bastard a piece of your mind and have the last word, but...does it really need to be right now? He's hurt you so much already, taken so much from you...I just don't want to see you get hurt more than you already have."

She heaves a sigh, finally looking back up at him.

She has always prided herself in being strong, in being able to prove that strength to others by enduring what most people couldn't, but as she thinks about Finnick's words and lets them sink in, she realizes; what is she trying to prove? And better yet, to whom? She had already done what everyone expected her to do; she had broken away from the Capitol's control and acted as the face of the Rebellion, and ultimately toppled Snow's hierarchy. The only thing left to do was execute him, and that was a right that had been guaranteed to her from the beginning.

So maybe he is right. Maybe she doesn't need to see Snow right this second. After all, he would be there for at _least_ another day. Executions took time to prepare, after all. And she still hasn't seen everyone she's wanted to since waking up; Cressida and her team are away, Gale is gone, she hasn't seen hide nor hair of Johanna, Beetee, or Effie. She still has so much to do, so many people to see. Snow will be there waiting for her. She can wait...she can wait.

Katniss blinks, and a feeling of shame slams into her chest as she realizes how ludicrous it is for her to pick a fight with him over something so petty.

"I'm...I'm sorry. It's been a busy day and...I'm still confused about what's going on and...and I don't really-"

Finnick shakes his head and waves his hand in front of her face, shushing her.

"You don't have to apologize. I understand. You have every right to be cautious, especially where _that_ guy's concerned." He tosses his thumb back in the direction of the greenhouse. "Come on, let's get you inside. You're freezing."

A laugh escapes her, though it sounds more like a cough, and she lets Finnick lead her back across the patio and past the glass doors.

* * *

He takes her into the room she had previously been knocking on before running out to him (turns out it was his room), and sits her down on the ridiculously fluffy mattress, insisting that she lay down and rest.

It doesn't take much convincing to get her to comply, and within minutes, she's ready for a nap.

She slowly blinks her eyes, staring up at the elaborately painted ceiling as she lays on her side, idle thoughts passing and going. She feels Finnick shift behind her, and the next thing she knows he's laying down and wrapping an uncertain arm around her waist.

"This okay?" He asks, breath fanning against her shoulder.

She tiredly nods, closing her eyes for a moment before she replies. "Yeah...it's fine."

She wants to say that it's _more_ than fine, that she can't think of a single scenario where she _wouldn't_ want him close, but doesn't. So she settles for curling up her legs and snuggling further into the warm body behind her, hoping that her actions will speak more than words.

The relieved sigh and eager arms that coil around her are more than enough to satisfy her, and she resolves to simply savor the amazingly peaceful and serene moment she's been gifted with after such a long and hard struggle. They take their time admiring the richly decorated room, just staring off into space and enjoying each other's company, and Katniss dares to think it's the happiest she's been in years.

"Hey..." Finnick whispers after a while, jostling her with his arm ever so slightly.

She hums tiredly to let him know she's awake, eyes slowly opening and closing as she waits for him to speak. "Hm?"

"Have you seen Peeta yet? Since you woke up?"

His tone is careful, and she is suddenly very much awake. "...No. Why? Is he okay?"

Her question is met with silence, and she pushes herself up into a sitting position on the bed and twists around to look at him. He sits up as well, and the note of caution is clear in his voice as he answers.

"...No. He's not."

"_No?_" She echoes, worry enveloping her. "What do you mean, what's wrong?"

"Well," he begins, unsure where to start. "I haven't seen Peeta since we've taken the Capitol, and Annie came to me yesterday and said that he's being heavily sedated and watched over by guards. Apparently he relapsed and had another 'episode' that Coin deemed necessary for containment."

Katniss slowly shakes her head, trying to make sense of it all. "That...that can't be true. He was fine. He was _just_ _fine_ the last time we saw him..._you_ were there. You know how he was with Annie, with people, with _me..._it makes no sense..."

He nods, agreeing. "I know. I thought there was something fishy about it, too. In fact, I was on my way to see Coin when you came and found me. "

She chews on her lower lip, thinking hard.

She feels guilty that Peeta hasn't crossed her mind throughout the day, but she _was_ practically dragged into her Mockingjay costume and shoved in front of millions of people the moment she was out of her hospital bed, so she supposes that it isn't too much of a crime. But still, her district partner, her ex-lover, her _friend – _the person who had been with her through everything since the beginning - was in trouble and she wasn't even aware of it until just now. How could she be so thoughtless?

"Try not to worry about it too much," Finnick says. "Peeta's still alive, and that's the important thing. I just thought you should know."

He reaches up to brush his hand against her hair, and she holds his wrist in place with both hands and smiles somewhat regretfully at him. He kisses her and draws her in for a hug and she readily accepts it, wanting nothing more than to be suspended in the warmth that only he can give off.

"I love you," he whispers.

She smiles and exhales, loving the way the words sound. "I love you too."

He kisses her head and coaxes her to lay back down with him, and Katniss ultimately (though somewhat begrudgingly) complies. Finnick falls asleep in a matter of minutes, but she feigns sleep in favor of the storm of thoughts rolling through her mind.

She just can't stop thinking about Peeta. What could have possibly happened in the amount of time that passed between her leaving for the Capitol and Coin taking it over? What could have been so bad that it set Peeta off and forced Coin to isolate and sedate him? It just doesn't make any sense at all. So many things aren't making sense to her these days, it seems, and it isn't because she's just gotten out of a coma, either. Something is amiss. And she fully intends to find out what.

She waits until she knows that he won't be roused from sleep, and carefully slips out of Finnick's arms and slides off the bed.

Her slippered feet make no noise on the carpeted ground, and she carefully makes her exit, leaving the door open just a crack. She swiftly pads down the hallway, making haste as the heat quickly drains from her body.

She's going to find out what happened to Peeta.

She's going to see Coin.

* * *

It takes her some time, weaving in and out of hallways and down corridors until she reaches the center of the mansion where she knows the District 13 President will be, but she does eventually find her.

She's sitting alone in an open room, which is ornately decorated and bathed in yellow from the light fixtures in the overhead chandelier, wearing reading glasses and casually sipping tea from one of President Snow's cups as she looks over a set of documents on an elaborately carved table.

Katniss cautiously approaches her, fur slippers soundless on the stained wooden floors. Coin's head shoots up once she's within view, surprised at her presence, and puts down the teacup she's drinking from to devote her full attention to her.

"Mockingjay," she greets. "What are you doing up at this hour? I thought you'd be enjoying your freedom with Finnick or your sister."

Katniss doesn't bother bringing up how miffed she is at her use of the word 'freedom' (she'd practically just admitted without admitting that she was little more than a slave to the Rebellion before the fall of the Capitol), instead deciding to focus on what she came here for; Peeta.

"I'm here to talk about Peeta." She says, and Coin's pleasant expression shifts. "I haven't seen him since I left for the Capitol and I want to know how he is."

"Hasn't anyone told you?" Coin replies. "Peeta relapsed. He's been in confinement as of two weeks ago."

"I'm _well aware_," she says, struggling to keep the bite out of her tone. "But I need to see for myself. Take me to him."

Coin takes off her reading glasses to stare at her with a look that can only be described as highly annoyed, and tries once again to convince her to drop the subject.

"He is _dangerous_, Katniss. You of all people should know that. He can't be trusted, and therefore I can't allow you to see him. I'm sorry."

Anger sweeps through her at the obvious fact that she is clearly _not_ sorry, but she swallows it down in favor of the greater good. She needs to see Peeta. And one way or another, she will.

Determination set, she strides forward until she's in front of Coin's desk, slamming her hands down onto the polished wood and making the President jump ever so slightly.

"I am _not_ leaving until you let me see him," she bites out, staring daggers at the seated woman. "And if you won't help me, you can be _damn_ sure that I'll find a way on my own. And _that's_ a promise."

Coin sits, motionless on the other end of the desk, matching her stare with one of her own, sizing her up and trying to determine just how serious she is. Katniss doesn't know what it is exactly that she's looking for in her expression that will give away the legitimacy of her feelings, but she seems to find whatever it is, because she reluctantly gives in to her demands.

"Alright, then, Mockingjay." She says, offering a thin-lipped smile.

"Let's go see Peeta."

* * *

The President takes her down a maze of dimly lit hallways, leading her deep within the mansion, and after many twists and turns, they come to a set of large double-doors guarded by two men whom Katniss recognizes to be some of Coin's right-hand men.

"She's here with me," Coin says. "Open the doors."

She nods to said doors and the guards open them up, allowing the two women access to the room beyond.

A cold draft sweeps past Katniss and she shivers, but Coin seems impervious to such extremes and stands still as a statue until they are ready to go in. The President takes the first step forward and she follows suit, walking into the pitch-black room with nothing more than blind faith that Peeta really is here and that she's not being led into some kind of trap.

"Turn on the lights."

Coin's orders are carried out immediately, and a split-second later Katniss' eyes are overwhelmed with brightness. She squints and shields her eyes with her arm, letting her pupils adjust before taking the full brunt of the harsh lights.

She gasps at what she sees; Peeta is at the far end of the room, sleeping soundly in a lumpy hospital bed with a cold metal frame, all sorts of machines beeping and countless tubes connected to his arms and chest and nose, pumping various drugs into his system. There are thick metal handcuffs on his wrists that bind him to the bed and a muzzle over his face that gives him the look of a rabid dog, and she finds it all too cruel to treat him like the mutts he's been running from for over a year.

"...Peeta?" She calls out cautiously, stepping forward.

Peeta jerks awake, lolling his head to look at them. She steels herself, expecting to be met with the same hijacked boy she had known back in District 13, but it's just the opposite; there's no violent spasms, no hatred in his eyes, no irrational fear of her...there's nothing. Nothing but a startled look and bogged down expression. Aside from the drugs, Peeta is perfectly normal. And that's why she knows that something is very wrong with this picture.

Apprehension gone, she runs to him, touching his face and feeling nothing but sorrow for his situation. She reaches for the tubes on his arm but stops on account of Coin being present, and settles for holding his hand. She weaves her fingers with his, and he grasps her hand with what little strength he has.

"Oh, Peeta..." She whispers, taking her other hand and brushing some of his hair back. "What have they done to you?"

"I told you he was unstable."

She turns back to look at Coin, her grip unconsciously tightening on Peeta's hand. It takes all of her strength not to glare at her, and the President readily meets her gaze with an all-too-pleased smile that screams _I told you so_. She bites her tongue and turns back to Peeta, gasping when she sees his wide, fear-stricken eyes trained solely on the woman behind her. The machines around him beep wildly with his heart rate, and she's met with a thousand different questions and a million different scenarios to try and explain just what happened while she was gone.

She begins to turn around and look once more at Coin, but Peeta stops her; he squeezes her hand with what little strength he has, and she's thankful for it because in all honesty she doesn't trust herself right now. She wants to march right over there and rip the President's eyes out. But if Coin really had done something to Peeta, the last thing she wanted was for her to suspect that she knew.

She takes a deep breath, blinking a few times to try and clear her thoughts, and looks back down at her district partner. She doesn't doubt for even a moment that he's perfectly sane as they stare at each other; his soft blue eyes, though riddled with fear and apprehension, tell her all she needs to know.

She smiles sadly at him and leans over the bed to give him a somewhat awkward hug, angling her face towards his ear so Coin won't hear her.

"I'll get you out of here," she vows, eyes burning determination into the dark, blurred image of his head.

He squeezes her hand in response, and she reciprocates, knuckles turning white as they both consent to the silent pact.

She stands upright and pulls her hand away, and she can tell by the way that he's breathing and how hard it is for him to keep his eyes open that he's having a tough time fighting the drugs. She places a hand on his forehead, running her thumb across his eyelid and coaxing it shut.

"Sleep," she says gently, and with nothing else to do, he complies.

Peeta closes his eyes and the machines gradually return to a regular, gentle beeping, and Katniss turns away and walks back over to Coin.

"You were right," she says, looking her hard in the eye. "There's something wrong with him."

Her fib passes under the older woman's scrutinizing gaze because she isn't lying; there _is_ something wrong with him, but it isn't because he's relapsed. Coin steps aside and places a hand on her shoulder, her touch burning beneath the barrier of cloth separating her fingers from her skin.

"Come on," she says, smiling for good measure. "Let's get you back to bed."

She guides her out of the room and Katniss does her best to appear defeated, though in reality she's working out the best possible way to rip the rug right out from under the 'concerned' President's feet.

She _is _going to find out what happened, she decides.

She _will_ know the truth.

And when she does, Coin is going to pay.

* * *

President Coin smiles as she watches Katniss leave, pleased that her plans are working out just the way she wants.

She turns towards Peeta, a sense of sick satisfaction seeping into her as she settles her eyes on him. His eyes have opened since Katniss left, and he stares at her with the most hatred she's ever seen from a single person. She can't help but smile wider.

"You'd best remember our deal, Peeta," she says, keeping her voice level in a way she knows he doesn't like. "I've got big plans for you tomorrow."

Peeta's response comes in the form of a hard stare and rising blood pressure, and the machines hooked up to him begin to beep loudly.

She steps closer, bending down to his level and smoothing his hair out as Katniss had done, though there is hardly the same amount of empathy behind it.

"Shhhh..." She whispers. "You should be happy. You're going to help shape the new world. That's no small task. And once you've given me what I want, you can rest assured that nothing will happen to Annie. You'll be free. Free to live out the rest of your days in blissful peace."

The hatred in his eyes doesn't change, and she drops her pleasant demeanor as easily as a child drops a toy that isn't working. She rises back to her full height, mouth set in a drawn line as she turns her head towards the guards outside the door.

"Give him another dose."

Her orders are followed without question, and she watches with glee as Peeta's hate is quickly replaced with fear. Morphling, among other drugs, are injected into his system, and the fight is taken out of him within seconds. His eyes drift closed, and they don't re-open.

Coin stands in her place, staring at the stubborn little Victor a few moments more. She didn't want it to come to this. She would much rather have convinced Peeta to join her cause, to see things from her point of view. And maybe she could have, if he were still blinded by his love for Katniss. But she had moved on to Finnick, and he to Annie, and therefore his eyes were far more open than she would have liked.

But no matter. She will have her victory, in the end. And nothing – not a suspicious Mockingjay nor a hijacked Victor – will stop her.

Coin turns to leave, finally done with her train of thought, and orders the two guards to resume their posts outside the doors.

Everything according to plan.

* * *

Katniss makes sure that Finnick awakes with her at his side the next morning, and he doesn't suspect in the least that she'd gone the night before to see Peeta.

She doesn't quite know why, but something in her gut tells her to keep it that way, to not let him know that she's seen him. It could just be paranoia, but just the same, the feeling is strong enough to keep her mouth shut about the subject for the time being. She'll tell him once she's seen Snow.

They enjoy breakfast together with her sister and mother, and during their second helping of muffins and pancakes, she slips away, saying that she needs to get something in her room. Not a lie, as she needs to bundle up for what she plans to do, but not a truth, either. She puts on a coat and scarf and warm shoes, and walks down the maze of hallways until she reaches the set of glass doors leading to the garden. She bravely steps out onto the patio, careful not to slip on the ice as she leaves the mock-safety and comfort of the mansion.

There's no breeze, so the cold doesn't get to her at first; merely dances along her face and hands in a caress that's too gentle to penetrate her hot skin. She walks up to the greenhouse with caution, eying the two guards at the entrance as she approaches. She comes to stand awkwardly before them, not knowing if she should just go in or say something first (Finnick seemed to be able to go about freely, but that didn't mean it was the same for her). She's just about to open her mouth when the guard on her right speaks, addressing her with a gentleness she doesn't expect.

"You're free to go in, miss Everdeen," he says. "Commander Paylor informed us that you and the other Victors have complete access to what lies beyond this door."

She knits her brows, a question ready on her lips. "Paylor is alive?"

The guard nods. "Yes, ma'am. She led the rebels to President Snow's mansion and has been helping with the cleanup in the other districts."

She nods, happy with the news that something _right_ has happened since taking the Capitol. "Good."

The guard gives her a courteous nod, having finished with their small talk, and he and the other soldier reach to open the doors to the greenhouse.

Katniss tilts her head and torso as she peers inside, the lighting within being considerably brighter than she expected, and steps forward.

She enters the greenhouse with caution and wonder, amazed at just how vast and expansive it is. The various flowers and shrubberies give the impression that it's a mile wide, even endless, and a brief feeling of panic rolls through her at the thought of not being able to find her way back to the door. She walks, deciding to enjoy her surroundings before they're polluted by the vile snake she came here to see.

The smell of roses hits her as soon as she reaches the end of the third vineyard-like hallway, and she can tell she's getting close. She covers her nose at one point because the stench is just so strong, and she has to fight to retain her train of thought without feeling sick, but she continues onward nevertheless. She'll be damned if she lets something as simple as flowers keep her from reaching her intended target.

The flowers she'd been passing a minute or so before gradually fade away, and her vision shifts into that which is more akin to a rainbow than anything else. Roses of every color imaginable adorn the tall bushes, ranging from pale hues to blinding neon. She's surprised that they're even still alive, given the cold temperature outside, but she suspects that just like their color, they must be artificial. Real in the sense that they grow and bloom and thrive on water and sunlight, but fake in that they can achieve the most bizarre of colors and withstand even the harshest of weather. As far as she is concerned, once a flower is genetically engineered to be anything other than what nature intended it to be, it isn't a flower.

She rounds a corner and comes across a single bush full of pure white roses, absolutely devoid of color and separated from the others that she's seen. She walks closer and inspects them, noting their almost dead perfection as she runs the pad of her finger across one of the flawless petals.

"Lovely, aren't they?"

She jumps, spine jolting as she jerks her hand back and searches for the voice.

Snow sits on an ornately carved stone bench on the other side of the bush, and she realizes from the large circular slab of concrete beneath his feet that they must be at the center of the greenhouse. He's weighted down with shackles on his wrists and ankles, as well as a tracking device around his neck that beeps every two seconds. She wonders how he knew she was there.

"Colors are nice, of course," he goes on to say, smiling that open-mouthed smile she's come to hate. "But nothing says perfection like white."

She cautiously steps closer, taking her time, and when she doesn't say anything he continues to speak.

"I wondered when you would come to see me. After all, it's been weeks since the Capitol fell to rebel control. Though I supposed you might have been busy with your duties as a Mockingjay, sister, or daughter, it's _lover_ that I'd put my bet on." He pauses just long enough for her to process where it is he's going, and what he's alluding to. "I understand that you weren't satisfied with merely stealing Peeta and Gale's hearts, but Finnick's as well. My, aren't we selfish?"

He lifts a handkerchief to his mouth and coughs violently, and when he draws it back there's an alarming amount of blood soaked into it. It takes all her willpower not to lunge at him, knock him off the bench and start beating and kicking and choking the life out of him, because she's never wanted anything more in her life than in this moment. But she can't let him get to her. Not yet.

"I must say, I was impressed with Coin's strategy," Snow says, voice strained from his coughing. He clears his throat. "Dropping those parachutes on all of those defenseless children, and then making it seem like _I_ was the one who gave the order; very clever."

She halts in her tracks, brows furrowing as she chooses her next words with caution. "...What are you talking about?"

His smile widens, and he angles his head to the side and says, "Ahhh, and so she speaks. Did your dear 'President' not tell you? The bombing of the courtyard was _her_ doing." At her dumbstruck expression, he laughs. "Come now, miss Everdeen. Don't tell me you don't see the hand that was played there. Dropping a bomb on my own people, _wasting_ innocent lives when the game was already over...does that seem like something _I _would do? No, it is your _President's_ fingerprints that are all over that unfortunate incident."

Her mind is sent spiraling, but only for a moment. She can't let him confuse her. "If you had a working hovercraft in your possession, then it makes perfect sense that-"

"If I'd had a working hovercraft in my possession, I would have been using it to make an _escape,_" he says curtly. "Not destroy a pen full of Capitol children. There would be no reason for it, miss Everdeen. None at all. And while I am not against taking life, I don't believe in wasting it. And we both know that I am _not_ wasteful."

She is shocked into silence by his cruel tone and hard gaze, and he takes a moment to compose himself before speaking again.

"I must admit, though, Coin is an excellent strategist, if not brutal and a bit unrefined. The idea that I was bombing my own people, _children_ nonetheless...it was the perfect way to get my own people to turn against me." He chuckles to add, "Why, they took my home in less than an hour! Can you think of a quicker way to usurp your enemy?"

She looks at him, at the tracking device and restraints and royal blue robe he's wearing that could probably feed fifty people with the amount it's worth, and tries to take everything he's saying with a grain of salt. There was no truth to be found with him, only lies and deception. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to try and find out his motive.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asks, voice guarded.

Snow doesn't miss a beat. "Because when the years have gone by, miss Everdeen, I want you to know that this changes nothing. That my _death_ changes nothing. There will always be people who hold positions of power that are no better than I, and oftentimes they're worse. And though you may think you have won now, a new threat will arise to take my place. If not in the form of Alma Coin, then someone else. Maybe even someone you know. The fact is, miss Everdeen, you are never safe. You have never truly won. It is a constant struggle to maintain the peace, to keep everything and everyone in order. In time, you'll understand. Haha...who knows? Maybe it's _you_ who will take my place."

Snow laughs, triggering a coughing fit but not seeming to care. Katniss lurches back, revolted at the mere _thought_ of becoming anything even _remotely_ like him, and her face screws into a look of pure disgust.

With nothing else to say, she turns on her heel and disappears behind the rose bush, heading back through the maze of hedges as she makes her way toward the exit.

She bursts through the doors and takes in a huge gulp of air, feeling as though she can only now breathe properly. She doesn't look at the two guards as she hurries back to the mansion, pushing past the glass doors and sealing herself inside.

She leans against the doors and shuts her eyes, breathing heavily. The colder-than-cold glass seeps in through her coat and sends a gentle shiver through her back, but she hardly notices because she's trying so hard to get her head together.

She shouldn't believe Snow. Hell, she _couldn't_ believe him, she knew that much already. But still...his words made sense. It wasn't complete folly to picture Coin doing something so heartless, bombing innocent children to further her own gain, and what's worse, she can _see_ her doing it. The images are obscured by her limited imagination, but they play behind her eyes all the same; Coin standing in her control room back in District 13, giving the order to load one of their hovercrafts with bombs disguised as parachutes, the look on her face as they drop down to the children in the courtyard below...Peeta's face when he sees what she's done.

Her eyes burst open, and everything begins falling into place so fast it's a wonder she hasn't come to this conclusion earlier.

Coin was to blame for Peeta's relapse.

She'd always suspected it, but never had any proof. Even now she didn't have any proof, but it made so much sense that it might as well have been. He had seen what she was doing, and she put him away to make sure he didn't interfere.

Shock rolls through her, morphing into a thousand other emotions until her knees go weak and she nearly topples over from the brunt of it all. She juts out an arm and catches herself against the wall to her right, sliding until she's resting in the corner. She brings a hand to her forehead, pushing her hair back as another realization comes to her, this one even more horrifying than the last.

Prim.

Prim was only alive because of Finnick, because he hadn't let her go to help the children in the courtyard. Coin hadn't just made a brash decision to send her out into the battlefield, she had _planned_ it. She _wanted_ to kill her so she could have better control over _her,_ so she could _use_ her for whatever she wanted. She tried to kill Prim...

Anger bubbles inside her like lava rising through a volcano, and she's filled with so much rage that she doubts anyone on Earth can relate to how she's feeling. Filled with a righteous fury that only God Himself can match, she launches from the corner and stands upright, burning the carpet beneath her boots with her gaze. Her fists clench, knuckles turning white as he nails dig into her palms, and she clenches her teeth so hard they might break. She can feel her blood pressure rising, can feel the tiny sun burn inside her and spark off to warm the rest of her body. She stays like that for several minutes, struggling to contain it all, to keep herself from bursting apart at the seams with the loathing she feels for the woman responsible for nearly ruining her happiness.

She's able to calm herself down after what feels like an eternity, but only just enough so she can think properly. Just enough so she can formulate a plan.

_Find Finnick,_ her mind tells her. _He'll believe you if no one else will. And with him by your side, you can tell the other Victors and possibly do something about Coin._

Deciding that's as good a plan as any, Katniss heaves a heavy, hot breath through her nose and begins to march forward, her anger merely dulled from a sun to a star.

* * *

As fate would have it, it's not she who finds Finnick, but Finnick who finds her.

"_There_ you are!" he says, tossing his hands up and rolling his eyes. She can see that he's smiling in that goofy way that she loves. "I've been looking all over for you!"

He trots up to her and pulls her in for a hug, and though she doesn't want to dampen his mood, Katniss sees no other choice. "Finnick, I have to tell you something-"

"In a bit," he says. "Coin wants everyone in the war room for a meeting. Why are you wearing a coat?"

_"Meeting?" _She says, knitting her brows in confusion.

"Yeah. All the Victors are required to be there. Some kind of important get-together. Come on, let's go."

He begins to pull her with him back the way he came, but she digs the soles of her shoes into the carpet, halting him. "Finnick, _no_, I have to-"

"Katniss please, it can wait, now come on!"

She stares at him, a thousand different things wanting to burst from her lips before it's too late, but she realizes that now is not the time. Frustrated, she nods, and allows herself to be tugged along by Finnick as they make their way to the war room.

She's impressed with his knowledge of the layout of the mansion; they reach the war room in just a few short minutes, and he politely takes her coat and scarf from her and sets them on a nearby hangar as they prepare to sit down.

Every surviving Victor is present. Johanna. Beetee. Haymitch. Annie. Peeta, though he is handcuffed and accompanied by two guards. Even Enobaria is there. And though long ago she would have been curious as to how she survived the Quell, she's far too used to crazy things happening to wonder about it now. Coin is at the center of it all, situated in the middle of the large circular table everyone save herself, Finnick, and Peeta's guards are seated at.

"Katniss. Finnick." The President greets them as though she's somehow surprised at their presence. "How lovely of you to join us. Please, sit."

Katniss and Finnick share a sidelong glance, but move nonetheless to take the last two available seats.

"You're all probably wondering why you're here," Coin begins, straightening her posture and lacing her hands gracefully on the table. "It's because I would like to propose an idea, put forth by myself and the people of the districts, and I can think of no better individuals with whom to divulge it with than all of you."

A beat of silence passes, and Johanna makes an impatient swirling motion with her head to signal the President to get on with it. "_Well?"_

Coin smiles wider, and the giddiness with which she speaks puts Katniss on edge. "Very well. In order to appease the general public, the surrounding districts have proposed that we hold one final Hunger Games, in honor of the fallen children from seventy-five years of Games passed."

Johanna scoffs. "Pfft. _That_ makes a lot of sense. Preach all that 'no killing' stuff just to change your tune at the last second?"

"I'm not finished," Coin says, voice tight with forced civility. "Instead of using the children of the districts, as has been the tradition since the beginning, it has been suggested we reap the children of the Capitol, particularly those of the ones responsible for the cruelty and heartache we ourselves have had to experience."

"Like Snow," Beetee says.

Coin sends her smile his way. "Yes. And since there are eight of you, I will be voting as well to keep there from being any ties."

A long bout of silence ensues as the weight of the President's words sink into each of the Victor's brains. Katniss looks around the table, trying to read their minds, but everyone shares the same look; apprehension. She tries to catch Peeta's gaze but is unsuccessful, and the only one willing to look at her is Annie, who gives her a worried smile.

Coin seems to grow impatient with the lack of responses, and opens her mouth to get the ball rolling. "Very well. I will start off the vote. I vote yes. Enobaria?"

The gold-toothed woman snaps out of her daze and stares at the gray-haired President, eyes hardening. "_Yes_. Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

"Same here." Johanna pipes up. A wicked grin comes to her mouth as she glances around at the others. "I hear Snow has a _granddaughter_."

"...I vote no." Beetee says. "I think there's been enough bloodshed for a lifetime."

"I vote no too," Annie says. "All this killing...it needs to stop. Once and for all."

Coin nods and turns to Peeta. "Peeta?"

Peeta jumps at the use of his name, though Katniss suspects it's more at the sound of the woman's voice, but doesn't reply immediately. There's heavy tension as they all wait for him to speak, as though somehow they're unsure of what his vote will be, but Katniss already knows. The moment she'd gone to visit him in that room, she knew.

A look passes between he and Coin, and just as the guards begin to shift behind him Peeta reluctantly forces out a reply.

"...Yes. I vote yes."

He bites the inside of his cheek and laces his hands together, trying to keep the attention off of himself even though it doesn't work. The muscles in his arms twitch, and she can tell that he's fighting the urge to fidget. It's a truly pathetic sight, and she feels nothing but sadness for his situation.

Coin smiles at the blond boy, pleased with his answer, and moves on to Finnick. "Finnick?"

Finnick snaps his head away from Peeta, somewhat taken aback that his name has been called. "Uh...No."

"Haymitch?"

Her Mentor gives her a sidelong glance before replying. "I think Beetee's right. There's been enough bloodshed for a lifetime. I vote no."

"Very well, then," Coin says, slightly miffed. "Well, Katniss, you're the tiebreaker. What do you say?"

Katniss tenses when all eyes shift to her, and words freeze in her throat as she thinks deeply about her reply.

It's quite obvious that the President wants her to vote 'yes', even though she's trying fairly hard to appear indifferent to her decision. It disgusts her, the way she just _expects_ everyone to bow to her whims, like she's somehow better than them. The anger from her discovery in the hallway returns with full force, and she's just barely able to keep her breathing steady in spite of it.

Common sense tells her to say no, to _vote_ no, if only to see the look of shock on her face when she refused her what she wanted, but she knows that in the long term, it won't get her anywhere. If she were to vote no, then Coin would most surely have something to say (or _do)_ about it. She would find a way to override the consensus, a loophole with which she could follow through with her plans of having another Hunger Games, possibly even murder the Victors who were against her decision. No. Merely keeping her from getting what she wants for a short amount of time isn't good enough. Cruel enough. Fair enough. She needs to meet an end far worse than that.

Her eyes make the mistake of landing on Peeta, and she can't help but reflect on everything she'd experienced in terms of hardships back in District 13.

She can't think of anything the older woman has said or done in the past that she agreed with, whether it be related to battle plans, strategy, living conditions, or what to stock the cafeteria with. She's had to fight for everything she's wanted ever since she came to District 13 – Peeta, Annie, and Johanna's rescue, her own personal freedom, the lives of the people in The Nut, her presence in the fight to take the Capitol, her want to see Peeta last night – everything up to this point has been an argument. And she can only imagine how easily she could get on her bad side by voting no.

She had always known, deep down, that Coin wasn't quite right in the head. And the fact that she would even bring up such a notion now – of holding a Hunger Games with Capitol children – when they're supposed to be experiencing a time of peace, is utterly sickening. To her, it only shows just how alike she and the man they have overthrown truly are.

Snow's words to her in the greenhouse come bubbling up to the surface of her mind, the pieces finally coming together to form a complete picture.

And that's when she realizes; it's never going to stop.

The violence, the oppression...they hadn't done something truly 'great' and 'liberating' for their country, as they had all been led to believe. They had merely traded one tyrant for another. The cycle would never truly end, and as long as people like Coin and Snow were in power, no one was truly safe from the atrocity that was the Hunger Games.

But it _could_ end, couldn't it? Because she knew. She _knew_ what was happening, knew where they were headed. She could stop it before it even started. She _can_ stop it. But to do that, she needs to be on Coin's good side.

Katniss looks down at her hands, gaze hardening as she decides what it is she must do. She braces herself, drawing on every ounce of acting skills she's ever picked up over the time she'd spent in the Capitol being interviewed by Caesar and being forced to give propaganda speeches during she and Peeta's victory tour, and prepares for what she's about to say.

"...My sister almost _died_ in that explosion." She says finally, picking her words carefully. "If I had _lost_ her...I don't know where I would be." She looks up and locks eyes with Coin from across the table, taking a moment to pause for effect. "I vote yes...for her."

The smile that spreads across the President's face is sickening. "Thank you, Mockingjay. You've just ensured the satisfaction of countless mothers and fathers everywhere."

A solemn beat of silence passes as everyone around the table processes the future they have just carved out for themselves and their country, and while Katniss can tell that some are happy with the outcome, most are disappointed, sad, and even angry.

She begins to sigh from the heaviness of it all when Finnick suddenly smacks his fist against the table, and she jumps from the violent intensity of it. She turns her head towards him but he's already out of his seat and stalking away, leaving her as confused as she's ever been.

"Very well," Coin says as they all stare at Finnick's retreating back. "This meeting is adjourned. Thank you all for coming."

The Victors rise from their seats and slowly disperse, and Katniss finally snaps out of her shock and wills her legs to move. She slides out of her chair and goes running in the direction Finnick went, not bothering to grab her coat and scarf or properly excuse herself from the room. She looks down several hallways before she spots him, and she's quick to flag him down and stop him from going any further.

"Finnick!" She calls, speeding up when he doesn't slow down. "Finnick, _stop_...Finnick!"

He doesn't acknowledge that he's even heard her until she's directly in front of him, and the anger rolling off him in waves doesn't go missed.

"Finnick," she says again, trying desperately to catch his gaze. "Finnick, what's wrong? Tell me, _please."_

He purses his lips and she can tell by the way that he breathes and flares his nostrils that he's trying unsuccessfully not to snap at her.

"..._How_ could you do that?!" He asks, finally looking at her. "How could you vote yes for something you're so strongly against? How could you _want_ that for the hundreds of parentless Capitol children, for _any_ children, after what almost happened to your sister? _How_ can you justify that?"

Her mouth falls open, unable to form proper words. If she tells him the real reason behind her vote, then her plan might be all for naught; she would be stupid to think that Coin didn't have every hallway and every room wired up like an arena, and every word they said was surely being scrutinized and recorded. But if she doesn't, then she'll have to endure the guilt of hiding something that shouldn't be hidden, not from the one she loves. She might as well just spit in his face.

She swallows and blinks, at a loss for what to say. "I...I'm not..."

"Not _what_?" He asks, desperate for an answer.

"I...I don't..."

He shakes his head and waves a hand to signal for her to stop bothering, fed up with her indecisiveness.

"I'm done here. Get back to me when you have an answer."

He steps past her and continues walking, and a momentary bout of panic seizes her body as she reads into his words. She turns around, eager to call him back lest she lose him forever. She knows it's irrational for her to think that he would be completely done with her after all they've been through, but the fear is there all the same.

"F...Finnick, _please_, I-"

"_No,_" He says firmly, stopping in his tracks. She hates that he keeps his back to her. "I just...need some time."

He slowly resumes walking and Katniss watches him go, trying with every fiber of her being to understand things from his point of view and just let him be so he can cool down. She wants so desperately to explain everything so he can understand, but she simply can't take the risk.

She only hopes that he'll forgive her in the end.

* * *

She finds him some time later in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed.

The wait nearly killed her; she counted every second of every minute leading up to this point, frustrated and impatient as she sat in her mother and sister's quarters. She slowly creaks open the door to Finnick's room, hesitant and unsure as she calls out to him.

"Can...can I come in?"

Her request is met with silence at first, but with a look to the ceiling and a long sigh, it is ultimately granted. "...Yeah. Come on in."

She pushes the door open and steps inside, and already she feels like she's won half the battle. She walks over to where Finnick is sitting and places herself next to him, careful to leave a healthy bit of space between them so as not to make him uncomfortable.

"I...I'm ready to give you my reason. And explain."

He looks over to her, attention caught, and she takes that as encouragement to continue. She's been planning her words for nearly two hours, and she's not about to screw it up now.

"...I went to see Snow," she confesses, looking down at her hands and fiddling with a loose thread in the hem of her shirt. Finnick is looking intently at her, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak up. "When I slipped away during breakfast, that was where I was going."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asks, and she looks at him. "I would've understood. You didn't have to lie to me."

She almost argues that she didn't lie, not really, but decides better of it. Instead, she keeps to her original course.

"He told me_...things._ Things that...made me question everything I thought I knew. And the worst part is? They were true."

He looks at her with a concerned yet serious expression, and when she decides that he isn't going to say anything, she continues with her speech.

"In your propo...you said that Snow had a particular way of killing his adversaries. Of getting rid of people who threatened his power. How exactly did he do that?"

They both know the answer - _Smile. Get close. Invite them to dinner. Poison their drink – _but he decides to tell her again anyway, because he knows that there's a reason for her question, even though he can't figure out what it is yet.

"Well...he'd poison them. Invite them over for a big fancy meal and slip some into their drink."

"How?" she presses, leaning closer.

A slow look of understanding begins to creep onto his features, and though he still doesn't know what her aims are, he knows where she's heading with their conversation. "The roses he wears aren't just a pretty way to cover up the scent of blood. Their white color? Well it's about as unnatural as a Capitol mutt."

Realization dawns on her, but she doesn't let it show in her voice, instead choosing to act like she had known all along. "The roses are the poison."

He tilts his head and, confirming her suspicions, says, "Something that pretty can't be anything but fake."

Her mouth involuntarily falls open as she remembers being in the greenhouse, examining the white roses on the bush. To think that she had been so close to Death itself, and not even known it...

She can't help but think of how perfect it all is - the method, the aesthetics, the effectiveness. Snow truly was an expert at his game. After all, what better place to hide your weapon, than on the lapel of your jacket for all the world to see?

"All that time..." she whispers, more to the listening devices in the mansion than to anyone else. "I thought for sure that I was invincible. Untouchable as long as I followed along with what Snow said and did what he told me to do. But knowing what I know now, knowing that I could have ended up just like the others that opposed him, that my _sister_...I don't want anything like that to ever happen again. To anyone. And in order for that to be a reality, we need this last Hunger Games. To make sure that no one forgets. _That's_ why I voted yes."

The lie is so obvious it's almost laughable, but she knows that to whoever's listening it's believable enough. Only Finnick, who can see and hear her, who _knows_ her, realizes what she's trying to do, throw Coin off her scent. He gives he a puzzled look, but doesn't say anything to blow her cover because he knows that, although he doesn't quite understand it fully, she has aims that are far higher than anything he can imagine right now.

He leans forward and cups her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb, and gives a small smile. He pulls her in for a hug and she accepts it, closing her eyes and sighing as she rests her head on his shoulder.

Snow's words come tumbling through her brain, and she can't help but realize the truth in them; _selfish indeed_.

* * *

**A/N: Whew, I hope that was okay. Like, in character and everything. I'm not quite satisfied with the ending, but it's all I got at the moment. I actually had this entire chapter written and meant to post it not one, not two, but FOUR weeks ago, however it was terribly OOC and just wasn't right, so I scrapped about 80% of it and just rewrote it. Slowly. Painstakingly. _Agonizingly,_ until I got it right. So yeah, I hope you enjoyed it...seriously.**

**Anyway, see you next chapter.**


	30. Pt IV: Cyclone to Calm

**A/N: 05/04/2017 Okay so I'm FINALLY back. Sorry I took so long guys. Your patience is amazing. Really :)**

**I'm gonna die if there are any mistakes/plot holes in this thing. But I'll fix 'em when I find 'em.**

**Much love to elfielovesbooks for giving me such great pointers and advice for making this chapter even the slightest bit in-character, lol :)))**

**Sebashley****: I recommend Kissing Lessons With Finnick by Miss Scarlett 05 and If Love Is An Ocean Wide by abbyli. They're both oneshots but they're really good. If you want longer stories, check out Red Arrow by The Moonstar9 and Misconceptions by the melon lord 2.0. They haven't been updated in a while but they're definitely worth a read if you're looking for quality fics! **

**Reading time:**

**if you're fast: 15-20 mins**

**if you're slow (like me, lol): 25-30 mins**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Chapter thirty: Cyclone to Calm~

* * *

Everyone shows up for the day of the execution.

Gale returns from District 2, Cressida and her team are ready to shoot what will be her final propo, and the whole world waits for the moment Katniss Everdeen will put an official end to the tyranny of President Coriolanus Snow.

Katniss stands in Snow's elaborate reading room, staring out through one of the windows at the grounds below. She isn't thinking of anything in particular - just letting her mind soak in the details of what she sees - when someone enters the room. She turns, just in time to see who it is.

"Katniss," Gale says, sounding surprised to see her.

"Gale, you're back."

She acts surprised herself, but she's been expecting his arrival. They may have grown apart since she had become the Mockingjay, but she knows that her friend wouldn't miss Snow's execution for anything.

"Uh...you're awake." He points out, somewhat awkwardly. "Thats good."

"Yeah...thanks."

They stand there a few moments, a heavy silence weighing down on them.

"...I'm glad Prim is safe," he says quietly, nodding to her.

Katniss immediately adopts a guarded stance, eyes narrowing. "You mean safe from the bomb that _you _designed?"

Gale stares at her, taken aback.

"I mean, it was your bomb, wasn't it? Kill a few, let the rest come in to help, and then _murder _them all at once? Wasn't that one of your _plans?_"

The ice in her tone seems to affect the atmosphere of the room as she remembers seeing Gale's designs back in District 13, and she begins to grow cold at her place by the window. Gale clenches his jaw, looking down a moment to prepare his reply.

"...Katniss, I wanted to win. I wanted _us _to win. Not them. I did what I had to do. But I never-"

She scoffs, cutting him off. "Never what? Thought it might have repercussions? Never thought that _bombing _a pen full of Capitol children might put Prim in danger too? _What_, Gale? What is it?"

He purses his lips before bursting, "I didn't think it would be like this! Okay?! I didn't think that...that we would win by killing a bunch of little kids! I didn't think Prim would be in any danger...I didn't...I didn't _want _this!"

"No," Katniss says. "But it's what you got."

He scoffs. "Do you honestly think that we'd be standing here right now if not for that bomb? Do you really think they would've shown us any mercy? Because if you do, you're wrong."

"Do _you _honestly think the way we went about our victory was right?"

"Yes! I do! I honestly don't believe we would've won by doing anything differently than we did!"

"So in other words you're saying Prim could've died and so long as we won the war everything would be alright. God, do you _hear _yourself right now?"

"No! I'm not-" His hands come up to grip his hair, frustration coming to a dangerous head. "I never said that! I'm just saying you act like we had other options when we didn't! That bomb made the difference between winning and losing! Prim is alive and that's all that matters!"

"And what if she wasn't? What if she had died in that explosion? Would you magically care then?"

Silence meets her question, and although they're both on their breaking points with the subject, Katniss isn't done yet.

"You know something, Gale? You may not see it, but you've stooped far lower than you think. You don't care about anyone or anything so long as you get the results you want...you're no better than _Snow_."

She spits the man's name with as much acid as she possibly can, and the look on Gale's face is one of pure rage as he replies tightly, "_That's not true_. I would've died if Prim had been killed-"

"No. _I _would've died. _You _would have said you're sorry and not done a damn thing more about it."

"You know what? Stop hiding behind your 'holier than thou' act. I know it's a lie. You didn't care about those Capitol kids any more than I did. Hell, you didn't even care about this _Revolution_ until Prim's safety came into play! You only ever take action when you're cornered or pressured or out seeking revenge! _Nothing _you've done for this war has been out of the goodness of your heart!"

"That's not true!"

"_Yes _it is! You would _never_, under _any _circumstances, put your sister in danger! So let's stop pretending like you care about all the people I've helped kill and face the _real _facts: the whole damn _world _could burn down and as long as Prim was still alive, _you wouldn't care!_"

"_Stop it!_" She screams, every bit as livid as he is.

Angry, hot tears stream down her cheeks, and she heaves from the intensity of it all. Gale stares at her, a solemn yet slightly remorseful expression on his face.

"...Catnip-"

"_Don't_."

"Catnip, I just-"

"Stop. Just _stop_, okay? This was a mistake. You shouldn't have come back. You shouldn't have-"

"What, Katniss? Shouldn't have bothered to come back here to see how you were doing? Shouldn't have cared about you enough to watch you be with someone else? Shouldn't have stuck by you when you were losing your mind?"

She looks to the ground, eyebrows pinched. "I..._no_. That's not what I'm saying."

He takes a bold step closer. "Then what is it, Katniss? Because it seems like you're looking for every excuse to push me away."

The room is quiet for a few very long seconds, and Katniss feels the dam inside her finally break as she admits to the terrible feeling of betrayal she's felt ever since that bomb had gone off.

"You...you almost killed Prim..." Tears begin to stream freely down her cheeks, and her voice is barely above a whisper. "And if she...if she had...I _trusted _you. And you..."

She doesn't finish her sentence, she can't. She's too angry and frustrated and sad and Gale is standing right in front of her and she just can't _deal _with it. He pulls her in for a hug and the rage finally begins to drain from her body, enough overwhelming pain and anger to last for years seeping from her system.

"Shh, I'm sorry..." he whispers, stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Catnip...please forgive me?"

She closes her eyes and thinks. She wants to. She wants to forgive Gale. But she can't. And she knows that's wrong of her, that even though her anger is misplaced and even a bit misguided (after all, Gale's bomb wouldn't have been of any danger if Coin hadn't decided to use it) the sting of his conscious betrayal is still fresh. He _knew_ that she disapproved yet he did it anyway. And though she knows it's selfish of her to hang on to that anger for as long as she can, she decides that it's finally time for her to put herself first and do just that.

She takes a shuddering breath and pulls away to look up at him, her eyes reflecting the purest form of sorrow. "I _can't_, Gale. Not right now. I...I just can't..."

His face is so crestfallen that she thinks he might cry too, so she hurries to give him a sliver of hope.

"But maybe...maybe after this is all over. Once it's _finally _all over. Maybe...maybe then."

It isn't a lie. It's not that she can't ever forgive Gale for nearly killing her sister, just that she can't this soon. The pain is still fresh in her mind and heart, and if she were to forgive him now, it would be nothing more than an empty lie. And she's tired of always thinking of other people's feelings before her own, tired of putting others before herself when all it's brought her is ruin. If Gale is truly her friend like she thinks he is, he will let her be mad at him for however long she wants.

"Okay," Gale says, the relief clear in his voice. "Just so long as I have a chance to make it up to you. That's all I ever really wanted."

He brings her in for one last hug and pulls away, neither of them smiling but relatively happy all the same.

"I'll see you at the execution." He says, walking backwards out of the room.

Katniss nods, the tiniest of smiles on her lips, and with that final acknowledgement, Gale turns and exits the room.

Her smile freezes when Johanna Mason practically _twirls_ into the doorway, leaning against it with a knowing smirk on her lips.

"Wow," she remarks, brows raised. "That was quite a tiff. Pretty personal stuff from the sounds of it. Remind me again why you chose Finnick?"

Katniss rolls her eyes, too exhausted to entertain her with an answer.

"Do me a favor, would you?" She asks, voice sickly sweet. "When you kill Snow, aim just above his heart. I want him to suffer."

Katniss can't tell whether she is being serious or just joking, but she nods in agreement all the same.

"Thanks!"

The short-haired woman gives a fake smile and trots off, a little too happily for anyone sane, and Katniss decides it's finally time to finish her preparations for the execution.

* * *

Effie busies herself in Katniss' quarters with doing her makeup and helping her into her Mockingjay costume, spiffing her up to look her absolute best for the cameras.

Though Katniss never cared much for personal appearances, she understands what this small, almost insignificant thing means to the older woman, and is sure to thank her for her help. She slips away the first chance she gets, making her way to the greenhouse. It's impossible to go by unnoticed, of course – nearly everyone she passes gives her an awed look and nod of respect, and there are simply far too many bodies occupying the mansion to begin with – but not a single soul dares to question what she's doing or where she's going.

There is only one guard standing at attention at the greenhouse, and he only gives her a curt nod before ignoring her completely as she heads inside. She almost feels a kind of power rush at being able to go wherever she pleases without question, but reminds herself that such thinking is what leads to things like the Hunger Games.

She walks through the maze of flowers until she reaches the thing she came here for; the single bush of white roses.

She carefully approaches it, painfully aware of just how dangerous the deceptively innocent bouquet is. She pulls down the sleeve of her Mockingjay costume to cover her right hand, slowly inching forward to cup one of the deadly buds.

As she cuts it from the bush with the tip of her arrow, she can't help but think of the irony; beauty truly was the Capitol's downfall.

She remembers her interviews for the Quarter Quell, remembers Snow making sure that she wore the wedding gown that was made of the whitest of whites. She realizes now that it wasn't because he thought she had risen above and beyond, but rather a message, a reminder to himself and to the world that he would crush her. She would laugh if she didn't feel so numb to the past that seemed thousands of years old.

Cradling the rose, Katniss turns, halting in her tracks when she catches sight of Snow standing just a few yards away. There is one single beat of silence before the tyrant opens his mouth.

"It's a lovely choice," he comments, that cynical smirk that she's grown to hate ever-present on his lips.

She fixes him with a glare, voice hard as she replies. "It's not for you."

There's a look of confusion, then a slow dawning of realization as the old man brings a knowing, toothy grin to his lips. "Ahhh, _I_ see. My, my, miss Everdeen. I wasn't sure you had it in you."

A moment of silence passes before she answers. "I guess I have you to thank for that."

He pauses, tilting his head thoughtfully as though to ponder her words, and, still smiling, replies, "Yes. I suppose you do."

Several beats of silence pass, and although she's wary, Katniss decides to throw caution to the wind and get straight to the point.

"So how did you extract the poison?"

He smiles.

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

She goes straight to her room and gathers the supplies she needs, following his instructions carefully, with all the concentration of a Capitol scientist tasked with creating a new breed of mutt.

She soaks, boils, and distills, and when it's all said and done, she's left with one tiny vial of poison. Plenty enough for Coin. She holds it up to the light, noting how dark the liquid is. The petals of the rose had lost their color during the extraction, revealing their true color before Snow's lackeys had tampered with it; black. The blackest black she's ever seen on a plant. She can't help but scoff at the irony.

She conceals the vial in one of her many pockets, spiffing herself up in the mirror for a moment before setting out to meet with Coin. She heads to the board room, where she and the remaining seven victors voted on the fate of the Capitol's children, and asks one of the guards to inform the District 13 President that her presence is requested. She also asks for a bottle of wine and two glasses, to which she is treated almost immediately. She empties the vial into Coin's glass the moment she gets the chance, remembering Snow's instructions - _the poison will take effect precisely one hour after consumption_ \- and patiently awaits the arrival of Coin.

She doesn't have to wait long, and before she knows it, she is sharing the room with the next would-be tyrant of the nation.

"Mockingjay," Coin states, genuinely surprised. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to make a toast," Katniss explains, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Before the execution."

"Really?" She quips, pausing for a moment and tilting her head. "Why?"

Katniss decides that she is genuinely interested in why she wants to make a toast rather than debating on whether or not she's trying to pull something, and continues with her plan.

"Every year before the Games started, Snow would appear on our screens. He would give a toast, promising that this year would be the 'best' Hunger Games, that the deaths we were about to witness would be the most spectacular we had ever seen. I want him to feel that. I want him to _know_ what's coming and how an entire nation will celebrate it."

"Well, well, Mockingjay," Coin chides. "That sounds a little sadistic, don't you think?" She doesn't wait for her to reply, merely glances down at the bottle and glass on the table. "Is that the reason for the wine, then? You want to make sure everyone knows that you ended his reign?"

"No," she says. "I want you to do it."

Her eyebrows shoot up, amusement clear in her eyes. "_Me_?"

Katniss nods. "Yes. I've been thinking lately, about the future of this country and what will happen after Snow is dead..."

She trails off, making sure that she has the older woman's attention.

"...And?" She asks, the slightest bit impatient.

Katniss continues. "And, I've decided that it isn't right. In all likeliness, I'll go down in history as the girl who singlehandedly took down a powerful tyrant and toppled an entire government, and we both know that's not true. When this is over, when Snow is _dead _and we've held our last Hunger Games, I want to disappear. I want to live a quiet life without having to worry about being reminded of all the horrible things I've done and all the people I've killed. And I can't do that if I'm the one making the toast."

She quiets for a bit, then adds, "The people may be happy without a leader right now, but that will change _very _quickly. They need someone to look up to, to depend on. And that person is not me. I have no interest or intention of running for President, but I know you do. And if you want them on your side, if you want to _be _that President, then they don't need to know that _I_ ended his reign; they need to know that _you _did."

"Wow, Mockingjay," Coin applauds. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

She takes a breath and straightens her back, nodding. "Yes."

"Alright, then. I'll do the toast. And in return, you can fade away into history just as you wish."

It's almost disgusting to her how quickly and easily Coin is willing to fulfill her request, to seize the glory and honor that she herself had unwillingly worked so hard for and claim it as her own without hesitation, but at the same time, it doesn't matter; the woman in front of her will not be alive long enough to live that dream out anyway.

"Thank you," she says, trying her hardest to keep the edge out of her voice.

Coin nods to her, the closest to a 'you're welcome' that she will probably ever get, and pushes the glass closest to her within reaching distance.

"Wine?"

Katniss looks down at the offending glass, forces a smile, and picks it up. She raises it to her lips and takes a healthy sip, watching as Coin does the same with hers. She watches with a sense of righteous satisfaction as the tainted liquid pours down the other woman's throat.

These Games will never come to be.

She'll make sure of that.

* * *

She retreats to her room to wait for when she is needed for the execution.

She moves to stand in front of the mirror, observing herself.

The protective coating on her Mockingjay costume mildly glints in the light, giving off a matte reflection. Her face is sullen as usual, but clean and free of blemishes, and her hair is brushed neatly and tied into its signature braid. Her body is given the illusion of curves thanks to Cinna's armor design, and she takes the time - for the first time since its creation - to admire this fact. She doesn't know what gave her the sudden need to look at herself (_really _look at herself) but she doesn't particularly care, either. Instead, she appreciates the way she looks (and the way she will probably never look again) because she knows that once it's all said and done, there will be no more glamor or special attention to be paid to her.

"_Wow_."

Katniss turns towards the door, snapping out of her thoughts.

Finnick stands in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he looks her over. Katniss takes a breathy sigh and smirks ever so slightly, feeling some of her stress dissipate.

"You know, I never really got the chance to admire your little war getup before because of all the fighting going on, but man, I sure wish I'd paid a bit more attention now."

She rolls her eyes at this, but smiles nonetheless.

"Come to wish me luck before the execution?" She asks.

Finnick steps closer, giving her a funny 'are-you-crazy' look. "_Hardly_, Fire Girl. In fact, I came to let you know they're ready for you...and to see you in your outfit."

She smiles again and looks down, but the humor of the moment doesn't last long. She exhales, the corners of her lips dropping into a sullen frown, and looks out her window at the fallen city of Panem.

"Everything's going to be different after today," she says, more to herself than to him.

She hears Finnick step behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder as he looks out at the view with her. "Yeah. It will. But a good kind of different."

She watches as a pair of guards shoo away a small group of civilians who are walking too close to the front gate, and thinks back to all of the tyranny she's witnessed throughout her life, remembers all of the pain and suffering and the people she's known and the friends she's lost, and thinks: _what if it's _not _different?_ What if she's made the wrong decision and everything only gets worse? She can think of several replies to Finnick's bold statement - _you don't know that, how can you be so sure?, what if you're wrong?_ \- and she desperately wants to bring these points to light, to challenge him and force him to see the bigger picture. But she doesn't.

She wants to ask him what makes him so sure.

She wants to tell him he can't predict the future, and therefore has no true knowledge of whether or not things will truly get better.

Instead, "I hope so." is all she says.

* * *

The crowd is louder than anything she's ever heard as she steps out into the light.

The shouts and screams of the rebels mesh and meld into a mighty roar, and she can only liken it to the giant wave that crashed over the beach in the Quell.

She slowly and dramatically walks across the stone walkway leading up to Snow's mansion, keeping her eyes set straight ahead as she tries not to sweat while Cressida and her team record her every movement. She's anxious, worried, even, about what she's done and what she's about to do. Although deep down she knows that she's made the right choice, it still doesn't stop her stomach from turning or her breath from becoming erratic.

Swallowing down her anxiety, Katniss continues to walk, stopping just a few yards away from the front doors. Snow is kneeling directly below the terrace, two guards on either side of him, his hands bound behind his back. He looks pitiful, hardly reminiscent of the intimidating man she'd come to fear and hate over the past two years.

She glances off to the side, seeing Finnick standing alongside Gale and her family. He gives her a sure look and a curt nod, and she does the same, though not nearly as discreetly with so many cameras pointed her way.

Coin finally decides to make her dramatic appearance, stepping out onto the terrace and welcoming the roars and screams that erupt as a result with open arms, and Katniss wants to cringe in disgust. Seeing the woman standing thirty feet above the former President of Panem makes her realize just how big her ego really is. One of the two guards on either side of her hands her an empty glass and a wine bottle, and her speech begins.

"People of Panem! We are gathered here today to watch the fall of the tyranny and tragedy we have all been forced to endure for far too long, and to witness the _rise _of a new, _free _era!"

Cressida gives her a nod and Katniss reaches to the quiver behind her back and takes out the single arrow shed been given, raising her bow and taking aim at Snow. The old man smiles at her, a wicked, knowing smile, and she can only gulp with trepidation in response.

"Today, we will witness what is possibly the most historic moment of justice to ever occur on our soil. Today, the greatest friend of the Revolution - The Mockingjay - will release one last arrow to signify the end of President Coriolanus Snow and his reign, and the beginning of a better, _brighter _future."

Katniss is so focused on the President's laughable emphasis on words like 'free' and 'better' that she's a beat too late in noticing the older woman's attention turn to her as she gestures down at her.

"Mockingjay."

Coin pours her wine and raises it to her as she smiles, and it is the most fake, most condescending thing she has ever seen.

"May your aim be as _true_," she says. "As your heart is-"

Her words catch in her throat and she stops, confusion riddling her features as she tries to make sense of her blunder. The wine in her glass teeters. Shaking her head and clearing her throat, she tries again.

"As your heart is-"

This time she heaves as though she is going to vomit, and Katniss is vaguely aware of the crowd's sounds of concern as she holds fast to her bow. The guards on either side of the 13 President step towards her, looking at each other as though unsure of what they should do. Snow's mouth spreads into a wide grin in her peripheral vision, but she pays it no mind as she sees blood spurt from Coin's mouth. The glass she's holding shatters to the stone beneath her feet, wine spilling over the terrace.

The crowd gasps as their would-be president stumbles to the edge, gripping the intricate railing for support as she stains the white stone red with her bile. Katniss' mouth falls slightly open in shock as their eyes meet, and in that moment she knows that Coin is fully aware of the cause for her sudden illness. The grey-haired woman feebly lifts a hand to point at the young Mockingjay, words failing her as she chokes up more blood, and with a final breath, the light fades from her eyes.

The whole world watches as the body of Alma Coin goes limp, her hand falling as her body tilts and gravity pulls her over the terrace. The bodyguards rush to snatch her away from the edge but it's too late; Katniss watches, committing every single _frame_ of movement to memory as she falls, her body useless as the poison surges its way through her veins and she hits the ground, limbs tangling unnaturally like a thrown rag doll.

Then, and only then, does she allow her arrow to fly into Snow's chest.

Just above his heart.

* * *

Panic follows afterward.

The crowd overtakes the mansion in their hysteria, and Cressida and her team usher Katniss to safety.

As it turns out, 'safety' is an interrogation cell in one of the mansion's lower levels. Though Katniss knows she will be safe from the mob here (the very existence of the lower levels were known only to a privileged few) she can't help but feel a slight sense of panic, as she's sure she will be questioned about Coin's death.

"Wait here while we get your family," Cressida says. "Plutarch will be with you soon."

Katniss opens her mouth to speak but her propo team disappears, leaving to go deal with the mob outside. She sits waiting for Plutarch for an immeasurable amount of time, she thinks it must be hours, and panic begins to make way for paranoia as she thinks that maybe she wasn't being put here to be kept safe, but rather to be put to death for what she did.

_Don't be stupid_, her mind tells her. _There's no possible way anyone knows what we did. We made sure of it._

Just as she's beginning to question her sanity at her brain's use of 'we', Plutarch comes around the corner.

"Katniss." He greets, somewhat stiffly.

"Plutarch," she says back, and he takes a seat across from her, avoiding eye contact.

The way he's acting instantly puts her on edge, and she waits with baited breath for him to say whatever it is that he's going to say.

Plutarch closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, a long, drawn-out sigh escaping his mouth.

"...Katniss," he begins, and she can tell that he's having difficulty finding the right way to say what he wants to say. "...I know what you did."

He pauses to gauge her expression, which she's sure must be hysterical, and continues, "I don't have any proof, but I know what you did. Now, the crowd is under control and I'm having an autopsy performed on Coin."

Terror strikes Katniss like a lightning bolt, and her breath shudders as she tries to inhale and exhale properly.

_What was going to happen now? How did he know? Would her family be safe? Would Finnick be okay? Would Gale and Peeta and Haymitch and everyone she's associated with be in trouble now because of her carelessness? What-_

"Katniss, I'm not going to arrest you," he says simply, and she looks at him in shock. "I know that what you did was for the good of this nation, and what it now stands for. Coin opposed that. I know. Now, the medical examiner is going to find that Coin has been poisoned, but the cause of death will be blamed on a man we currently have in our custody, who's a known spy."

He checks to make sure she's comprehending everything he's telling her, and goes on to say, "You will be questioned in court, and you will be given prepared answers for those questions, after which you will be excused and given amnesty. You may then relocate with your family to a district of your choosing to recoup and recover, but I think it's best that no matter where you go, it isn't here. Best to stay hidden and out of sight before people start putting the pieces together."

"Why are you doing this?" She asks. "Why are you helping me?" She genuinely wants to know.

"Because you're a good person, Katniss," he says, shrugging. "And Coin wasn't. It wasn't hard to see how manipulative and power-hungry she was. To be honest, I'm glad you did what you did. You saved this country from another possible seventy-five years of oppression."

He chuckles to himself, a soft, low sound. "You know, I half-expected you to shoot her yourself instead of Snow."

She makes a sound akin to that of mirthless humor. "Yeah. Maybe in another life."

He smiles. "Maybe."

A few beats of silence pass, and he leans forward in his chair, looking at her intently. "So where do you want to go? When this is all over?"

Katniss looks at the ground, thinking. At first she doesn't know - after all, where _would _she want to go after all of the districts have been ravaged by war? - but once she thinks of Finnick and Prim and her mother and how close she _doesn't _want to be to home right now, her option becomes clear.

After a few moments of deliberation, she's made her decision.

She looks at Plutarch, gaze blazing with the same determination and finality she'd had when she'd asked him to send her to District 2 all those months ago, and says, "District Four."

Plutarch smirks.

* * *

**A/N: Man I struggled with this thing so much. Especially the scene between Katniss and Gale, ughhhh D:**

**I think I'm gonna change the chapter titles. Because they're so dumb. They've been bugging me since Pt II and even though the idea was for each part to have titles dealing with the four elements (fire, water, earth, wind) the only chapter titles I'm happy with are the ones from Pt I. So yeah I'm probably gonna be changing them here soon :P**

**Okay, so I think the next chapter will be the last. I haven't decided yet on whether I'm going to have one or two more. We'll see. **

**Again, thank you so much for your patience, guys, I'm so glad you love this story enough to stick around for it :)**

**May the 4th be with you!**


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